


An Exquisite Pain

by NotEnoughAnswers



Series: Time-Turner Trilogy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-22 06:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 143,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6068356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEnoughAnswers/pseuds/NotEnoughAnswers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She accidentally stumbles upon a Time-Turner and sends herself seventy years into the past. But will she come back completely unchanged?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Last Words

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from FanFiction.Net, February 2016.

She was about to die; there was no mistaking that.

The shapes closed in around her, blocking all means of escape. She tried her best to break free of the invisible bonds tying her limbs together, but they were as strong as iron and she only succeeded in exhausting herself.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her frozen lips. It wouldn't have done her any good to cry for help, anyway. She was completely surrounded.

Something warm pressed against her arm. It was a hand, slowly running down her bare skin. With a surge of daring she didn't even know she possessed, she turned her head and spat onto whoever was touching her.

A murmur ran through the group. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, sweetheart," a voice directly behind her whispered, menacing in the shadows. "It will only make everything more painful."

"I don't care," she hissed, although she was shaking madly. "Just hurry up and kill me already, will you?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," a cold, high-pitched voice sounded from in front of her. She sensed rather than heard the men around her drift away, as if they had been silently bidden to move. "I have to receive some… _information_ from you first."

"I will never tell you anything," she growled, gritting her teeth. Her resolve was beginning to weaken, and she knew she didn't have much time left.

"Well, that won't do, will it?" the voice asked, a slight sneer in its tone. "This must be done the hard way, then. Any last words?"

She shut her eyes tightly so as not to look at the monster in front of her, preparing to welcome the darkness. But she was not alone.

Behind her eyelids, an image slowly began to appear, gradually drifting into focus. Her memory had fortunately not failed her on this part.

It was a teenage boy, dressed in a dark pair of robes that accentuated his deathly pale skin. This was in stark contrast to his jet-black hair, which was parted and neatly combed to one side. His dark blue eyes burned as wildly as fire and a small smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he twirled his wand in his long-fingered hands.

Only the tiniest breath escaped her, a whisper that no one would ever hear. " _Tom."_

With that, she opened her eyes and looked straight ahead. "Kill me."


	2. The Time-Turner

_**September 1, 2011** _

The day school started was never a very relaxing one.

"Andrew Robert _Bailey!_ If you don't come down here this instant, we're leaving without you!" Elizabeth Bailey hollered up the stairs, smiling smugly when there was an answering yell of "Coming, Mum!"

Fifteen-year-old Danielle Bailey leaned against the front door with amusement, watching her family scramble to get ready for Hogwarts. Her thirteen-year-old brother Andy was always the last one to leave, mainly because he was a procrastinating slob and never packed until the very last second—literally. Danielle was usually the same way, but she had gotten up early that morning and had had nothing better to do than to get ready.

"Are you all packed, Danielle?" her mother asked, spinning around to shoot her the same glare she had just bestowed on Andy.

"Yeah, Mum," Danielle said amusedly, pointing at her suitcase lying beside her feet.

Mrs Bailey looked relieved. "Well, that's one down. Are you sure you're ready?"

" _Yes, Mum._ " Danielle tried to look stern. Honestly, Mrs Bailey was more beleaguered about the annual trips to Hogwarts than her children were.

"Is Andy late again?" Danielle's father, Robert, asked as he came out of the kitchen. He was still chewing on a piece of toast. When Mrs Bailey nodded, he turned to the stairs and called, "Oi! Andy! I'd advise getting your arse downstairs quickly or your mother will have a Hippogriff!"

"I'd come if I could find my wand!" Andy yelled back.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Mrs Bailey growled. She raised her own wand and ordered, " _Accio Andy's wand!_ "

A long, slim mahogany stick came shooting out from the living room and landed square in Mrs Bailey's palm. "There you go! Now come downstairs so we can leave!" she shouted.

"You found it?" Andy asked. There was the sound of footsteps running on the floor above and he flew down the stairs to grab his wand. "Thanks, Mum!"

"You're welcome," Mrs Bailey said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Now can you go get your luggage, please? Your sister's been waiting here for the past ten minutes."

Andy's mouth fell open in exaggerated surprise. "You mean Danielle actually packed ahead of time? Someone call St Mungo's so they can tell us what's wrong with her!"

"Do you want to go to Hogwarts or not?" Mrs Bailey retorted. "The train leaves in half an hour, so—"

"Yeah, Mum, I know what you're gonna say," Andy said. "So please, don't waste your breath." Wand clutched tightly in his hand, he ran up the stairs again.

Mrs Bailey turned to Danielle. "Do you want to go wait in the car? Maybe then it would give your brother and father more incentive to hurry up."

"Sure thing," Danielle agreed, grabbing her suitcase and her owl cage in her other hand before pushing open the front door and stepping outside.

The Baileys lived in a small house in the wild countryside just outside of London, surrounded by forests and rolling green hills. The entire family loved the freedom and the wild beauty; it was so much more peaceful than the noise and bustle of the city.

Since Mrs Bailey was the only one who had a Muggle driver's license, she'd gotten to pick their car out. Of course, they were one of the only wizarding families who actually _owned_ a car, but Mr and Mrs Bailey were both Muggle-borns and had a soft spot in their hearts for "Muggle contraptions", as their children called it. Danielle wanted to learn to drive when she got older, but she had some doubts about the car's reliability—it was nearly ten years old after all.

_Don't Muggle cars usually last only six or seven ye—ouch!_ Danielle's foot caught on a small object lying in the grass, and she tripped, sprawling spectacularly over the lawn. Her suitcase and owl cage crashed and bounced on the grass while her tawny owl Ophelia hooted indignantly, flapping her wings.

"Ow," Danielle groaned, shaking grass out of her dark curls and sitting up. She'd landed on her hands and knees. That was sure to hurt tomorrow.

But what had she tripped over? Danielle pushed the grass aside and came across a small gold object hanging on a necklace. Frowning, she picked it up and examined it closely.

The chain was silver and looked quite old. The object itself was very curious: the paint was peeling and the gold didn't look as impressive as it might once have. A miniature hourglass hung suspended in the middle of a gilded circle, and she could just make out an inscription etched delicately on the edge of the circle: _I mark the hours, every one, nor have I yet outrun the Sun_.

_It was a Time-Turner._ Danielle had only heard about them in the professors' lectures. They were very rare and extremely dangerous if used improperly. How in the name of Merlin had one gotten here?

She sat back on her heels and turned the Time-Turner over and over in her hands. She should run back inside and show it to her parents immediately. But a part of her—the foolish part—said to _not_ tell them, to experiment…

Danielle was a Ravenclaw after all, and Ravenclaws were known for their careful analyzing of every situation. They didn't jump into things right away, unlike Gryffindors. If Andy had been the one who had found this, he'd be a hundred years in the past—or future—by now. So was there a reason Danielle found this, and not her brother?

She prodded the little knob on the side of the circle with her finger, thinking…All she had to do was turn this, and she could be a time-traveler. She could change the fate of the world for the better…or the worse.

For a long minute, Danielle just stared at it, pondering. A sudden loud crash from the house, followed by a startled yell, abruptly broke her concentration.

Startled, Danielle made to jump up, but as she did her thumb slipped and yanked the knob back as far as it would go.

She realized what she had done too late, and could only watch in horror as the hourglass began to move backwards faster and faster. Danielle made to throw it down, but some invisible force stopped her. The world began to spin around and around, blurred shapes and colors moving at an incredible rate. Nausea twisted in her stomach—

Then, suddenly, it stopped. Danielle was lying on the ground again, her nose pressed into the dirt. The Time-Turner was still clutched in her hand.

For a minute, she could only lie there, gasping for breath. Then she lifted her head, and stared in horror at the house—or, rather, where the house _should_ be. There was only grass now. She was lying in the middle of an empty field with nobody and nothing in sight.

_Stay calm,_ Danielle told herself, taking deep breaths. _Breathe. Think everything out rationally._

Slowly, she sat up, being careful not to hurt her already injured knee. Now, where was she: in the past or the future? The Time-Turner had turned _backwards,_ so that must mean she was in the past. And the reason the house wasn't there was because it hadn't been built yet.

All she had to do to get back to her own time was turn the Time-Turner forwards, and voilá! Nobody would ever have to know about this.

Danielle prodded the Time-Turner gently with her hands to make sure it wasn't broken before twisting the knob as far as it would go in the other direction. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the spinning to start.

But, surprisingly, nothing happened. Danielle opened her eyes. She was still in the middle of the field.

Brushing it off as some fault on her part, Danielle twisted the knob again, still calm, though her hands were shaking slightly.

Still, nothing happened. Her heart picking up its pace, Danielle twisted the knob again, and again, and again—

Nothing. The fifteen-year-old gazed down at the Time-Turner in horror as the terrible reality began to sink in: She was stuck in the past with absolutely no possessions and absolutely no way to get home.

Danielle Bailey opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could, whilst tossing the broken Time-Turner as far away as possible. Her own echo howled back at her.

She sat with her face buried in her hands and sobbed. She _knew_ it had been a bad idea to do this. She should have listened to her own advice and just showed the Time-Turner to her parents. But oh no, she had to just stupidly stare at it until she accidentally turned the knob.

What seemed like an eternity later, Danielle finally looked up, her face tear-stained and her vision blurred. How was she ever going to get back home? _Would_ she ever be able to get back home?

The funny thing, though, was that this _was_ home. The field was the same, the forest was the same, and even the bird-calls coming from the woods were the same. All that was missing was the house. Danielle had never known how lucky she was to have everything she did until she lost it—but that was how the saying went, right?

Something was prodding her in the ribs. Danielle stuck her hand in her pocket and, to her extreme relief, withdrew her wand.

Inwardly thanking whatever God existed out there, Danielle stood up, holding her wand tightly. She'd thought she left it back in 2011 with all her other things. But no; she'd actually been lucky for once. Then she snorted out loud at the sheer irony of that statement.

" _Accio Time-Turner!"_ she called, pointing her wand at the gold necklace in the grass several meters away. The Time-Turner came flying towards her, and Danielle caught it deftly, feeling a little bit better. It was consolation to know she could still use magic here. Then she froze, because she'd just used magic outside of school. Could Hogwarts still detect, or rather, could it _yet_ detect the use of underage magic?

_Hogwarts._ As soon as she thought of the school, a plan began to form in Danielle's head, and she figured several things out with a rapidness that would have made Rowena Ravenclaw herself proud.

Albus Dumbledore was considered by many, Harry Potter included, to be one of the most intelligent wizards who had ever lived. Danielle had heard so many tales about him that she felt almost like she knew him herself. _He_ would surely come up with a solution to her problem…if he was alive now.

And she knew almost for sure that he was still alive, because her house wasn't built yet. That seemed like an odd comparison, but it had to be accurate, since Danielle remembered Mrs Bailey mentioning once that their house had been built in 1999, which was two years after Dumbledore's death. So, unless it was 1998—which seemed very unlikely—it was almost certain that he was alive, and working at Hogwarts by now...

That put the year Danielle was in as between the years of 1930 and 1999. It had to be after the year 1930 because Mrs Bailey had also said that the entire area was covered by forest before the mid-1930s—meaning there would most certainly not be a large field in the middle of a supposed forest.

With these revelations, Danielle felt a sense of hope. She could go to Hogwarts and seek out Dumbledore. He'd know what to do if a girl from the future turned up with a broken Time-Turner.

He'd _better_ know.


	3. Professor Dumbledore

But Danielle refused to let herself think pessimistic thoughts, and instead focused her mind on finding a way to Hogwarts.

She wouldn't be able to take the Hogwarts Express, since it had most likely already left (she had assumed that only the year, not the date or the time, had changed, judging by the autumn leaves) and she was too young to Apparate. And it was impossible to walk…

Perhaps, if the rule about underage magic still applied, Danielle could cast a spell that would send a teacher out here to check. All the students were supposed to be on the train by now, so if they sensed magic, then they might get suspicious…

_But,_ Danielle reminded herself, _you used Accio, and nobody's come yet…_

Maybe it had to be something really extreme, like one of the Unforgivable Curses. But Danielle couldn't do that. She shuddered at the very thought.

A few minutes passed while she pondered, and her eyes lit up as a thought struck her. If the teachers thought that she was in _danger_ , maybe they would have more reason to come and get her! And what better way to suggest that one was in danger than by using the Patronus spell?

Since the end of the Second Wizarding War, it had been mandatory in the Hogwarts curriculum for students to be able to cast Patronuses. Last spring, Danielle had taken lessons with all the other fourth-years. It had taken her the better part of four months to produce something other than a faint wisp of fog, but she'd finally managed it just before she'd been tested on her ability (or lack thereof) to cast one.

Praying that it would work, Danielle raised her wand and concentrated on her happiest memory: that of finally seeing Hogwarts. Thinking of the first time she'd seen the grand castle, she cleared her throat and yelled: _"Expecto Patronum!"_

A sleek silver fox shot out of the tip of her wand, gamboling around her several times before disappearing into the thick forest.

Danielle waited until the silver light had faded completely before lowering her wand, feeling pleased with herself. What would the teachers say when they detected underage magic—with a _Patronus,_ no less?

Well, all that was left to do was wait. Danielle plopped back down on the ground, concentrating only on the fact that she would be back to the present soon and everything would be all right. She wouldn't be stuck in the past forever.

A loud _crack_ shattered the still air. Danielle instantly jumped up, her wand raised, but she immediately lowered it when she saw who had Apparated into the field.

He was perhaps a little younger than his portrait suggested. Instead of being long and white-bearded, he had short auburn hair and an even shorter beard. But his light-blue eyes and half-moon glasses were the same.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the field, staring at Danielle curiously, though there was kindness in his eyes.

Relief washed through her, and she resisted the urge to run up and hug him. Instead she choked out, "Professor Dumbledore! It's such an honor to finally meet you!"

"And I you, my dear," he said, though he looked a little confused. "Do you mind explaining yourself?"

Wordlessly, she handed him the Time-Turner.

Dumbledore examined it with interest before looking up. "When are you from?" he asked, gazing at her intently.

"2011," she admitted. "I was born in 1996."

Before she could explain any more, Dumbledore held up a hand. "Don't tell me everything. Just tell me how you came to be here."

Danielle quickly explained how she lived in the house-that-would-eventually-exist here, and how she'd found the Time-Turner in the grass and was accidentally sent back in time.

After she'd finished, Dumbledore simply surveyed her, appearing to be thinking hard. "So you're from the year 2011, and you stumbled upon this Time-Turner, by accident sending yourself back into the past?"

She nodded. "I'm Danielle Bailey."

"Albus Dumbledore," he said, holding out a hand. Danielle took it. "Though you knew that already. I won't ask how you do. Which brings me to a crucial point—do not tell me or anybody you encounter here _anything_ about the future. Not what is currently going on, not who your parents are."

"Why not?"

"I do not want to know too much about what will happen. If you tell me, or anybody else, anything that happens, I or they might unintentionally change the future somehow, which may have potentially disastrous consequences." Dumbledore paused. "So once you realized you were in the past, you thought that if you performed a complicated spell Hogwarts would find out and send someone to fetch you, correct?"

Again, Danielle nodded.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "You appear to be a very clever young lady. But why didn't you simply send yourself _forward_ in time? Surely you must know that Time-Turners can do that too."

"It's broken or something," Danielle said. "It didn't work when I tried."

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and pointed it at the Time-Turner, muttering something under his breath. "So it is," he said lightly. "Well, this is certainly objectionable."

"Sir—Professor—if you don't mind me asking, what's today's date?" Danielle wasn't really sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Dumbledore surveyed her over his half-moon glasses. "It is the first of September, 1942, my dear."

Danielle's blood turned ice-cold. "1942?" she choked out. "But—my _parents_ aren't even born yet!"

Dumbledore nodded, a solemn expression crossing his face. "You are currently seventy years in your past."

Danielle struggled to digest this information. Her head began to spin, and she had to pull herself together. She would _not_ faint. She was too strong for that.

Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Miss Bailey?"

"Yes," Danielle gasped. "I'm just a little—surprised."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I can understand. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can probably fix this Time-Turner, though it will take me four or five months. I'm afraid you'll have to stay here until then."

She nodded, though the prospect of not seeing anyone she knew for almost half a year was almost unbearable.

"I have an idea," Dumbledore said. "You are going into your fifth year at Hogwarts, correct?"

"Yeah," Danielle replied, gesturing to her robes. "I'm a Ravenclaw."

"Prefect this year?" he asked, nodding to the brand-new badge on her blue-striped robes.

Danielle nodded proudly. Her mother had been absolutely delighted to hear the news, as she had been a Prefect as well. Then Danielle's stomach twisted at the thought of Mrs Bailey.

"I think," Dumbledore was saying, "That it would be best if you were to come back with me and stay at Hogwarts, posing as a transfer student. Hogwarts doesn't usually allow transfer students, but I'm sure Headmaster Dippet can make an exception. Does that sound agreeable?"

"Sure," Danielle said dully.

Dumbledore smiled as if he could read her thoughts. "Everything will be fine, Miss Bailey. You just have to remember not to tell anyone about your true origins."

"I won't," she promised.

"Good. If you'll grab my arm, then I shall Apparate us both to Hogwarts." Dumbledore held out his arm, and Danielle stuffed her wand back into her robes before taking it, closing her eyes. She'd never Apparated before.

"On three," Dumbledore was saying, "One…two… _three!_ "

Danielle was suddenly jerked forward. She felt as if she were moving fast, though wind wasn't rushing past her hair. Something was squeezing, pressing in on her tightly from all sides and her ears were blocked and she couldn't see and she couldn't breathe…

Just when she couldn't bear it anymore, the sensation abruptly stopped and her feet found solid ground again. Danielle let go of Dumbledore's arm, gasping and blinking back the spots that danced in front of her eyes.

"I apologize for that," Dumbledore was saying graciously. "It can be a very unpleasant feeling."

"It is," Danielle wholeheartedly agreed. She regained her balance and her eyesight in time to see that they were standing in front of an enormous iron gate. Far up ahead, Hogwarts loomed in the distance, looking as welcoming as ever. Danielle instantly felt better.

"Shall we go?" Dumbledore suggested. He tapped the gate with his wand and it swung open. Danielle mutely followed him and the gate clanged shut again behind them.

"The other students shouldn't be arriving for a couple of hours or so," Dumbledore said as they walked up the long, winding path to the castle. "You'll have some time to get acquainted with the castle. I am not sure how much it's changed for you."

"Thank you, sir," Danielle said quietly, though she fully intended to go straight to the Ravenclaw dormitories and sleep.

She followed Dumbledore up the rest of the path and then into the castle. To her mild surprise, Hogwarts looked identical to how she remembered it, down to the very portraits on the walls. Danielle could pretend, even if for a moment, that she was back in her own time and everything was all right again.

Instead of leading her to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore led her to a room right beside the Transfiguration classroom. Danielle was briefly surprised before she remembered that Dumbledore wasn't the Headmaster yet and he was only a professor. He _had_ said something about a Headmaster Dippet...

The office was cozy but comfortable, with just enough room for a desk and several strange contraptions; Dumbledore was well-known for his eccentricities. A few portraits hung on the walls, though none that Danielle recognized. To her surprise, the Sorting Hat sat on the desk, looking as battered as ever.

"Why is the Sorting Hat here, sir?" she asked, sitting down on one of the chairs.

"I always take it just before the Sorting," Dumbledore said, shuffling through some of the papers on his desk. "I like to make sure everything is working properly. Armando Dippet—he's the current Headmaster—graciously allows me to perform that task." He picked up the old Hat and handed it to Danielle. "Put it on," he said, in response to her baffled look.

"But, sir, I'm in Ravenclaw!" Danielle protested.

"In 2011, you might be. But in 1942, you might be someone else entirely," Dumbledore said, being no help at all.

Danielle didn't agree at all with this view, but she grudgingly pulled the Hat down over her head.

_Well, well, well,_ said a voice in her ear. _What do we have here?_

Remembering that the Hat could read minds, Danielle began to panic. _Don't you dare tell anyone about me!_

_No need to worry. Your secret is safe with me,_ the Hat said. Danielle had the impression that if it could, the Hat would be smirking.

_Hmm…_ the Hat mused. _Let's see…you're set on Ravenclaw again, but I think that maybe a change might be the thing for you._

_No! Ravenclaw! Do it!_

The Hat ignored her. _You are brave, definitely…but something tells me Gryffindor isn't the place for you. The same goes for Hufflepuff._

A terrible suspicion was beginning to form in Danielle's mind. _No. No. No! You can't! Don't put me in—_

"SLYTHERIN!"

Horror-struck, Danielle pulled the Hat off of her head, about to launch an angry tirade at Dumbledore. But he merely smiled at her, putting the Hat back on his desk. "See what I mean?" he asked. "Sometimes a little change is healthy."

"Not when Slytherin is involved!" Danielle argued. "Sir—please—let me try again!"

"I seriously doubt the Hat will change its decision," Dumbledore said calmly. "But don't worry, Miss Bailey, it's only for four or five months."

Danielle sulked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Now," Dumbledore said, "It's quite unfortunate that our current Slytherin female prefect, Olive Hornby, was caught bullying a third-year, so I think that entitles you to take her place. Does that sound good to you?"

Feeling a little bit better, Danielle nodded. She'd still get to be a Prefect, and perhaps Slytherin wouldn't be so bad…

"What classes are you taking?" Dumbledore asked.

"Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Charms, Divination, Herbology, Potions, Muggle Studies, and Care of Magical Creatures." Danielle rattled off.

Dumbledore nodded. "That's interesting. You'll be the fourth Slytherin this year to take Muggle Studies—I believe that is a new record."

"Oh," said Danielle. Back in her own time, almost every Ravenclaw took it. She felt her heart contract at the thought.

Dumbledore seemed to know what she was thinking, and smiled sympathetically at her. "You'll be back to your own time soon enough, Miss Bailey."

"I hope so," Danielle mumbled.

"So, we need to think of an alias for you," Dumbledore continued. "After all, you can't go walking around as Danielle Bailey."

"Why not?" she asked, alarmed.

"We don't want anyone to get suspicious. What if, in seventy years' time, someone who met you here sees you again, a girl with the exact same name and the same looks?"

She frowned. "I see your point. But sir…if I'm not going to be Danielle Bailey, who am I going to be?"

"Hmm," said Dumbledore, stroking his auburn beard. "Who would you _like_ to be? Any names you're particularly fond of?"

Danielle thought for a minute. "Well, I've always liked the name Clara."

"Clara it is, then," Dumbledore said, writing it down on a piece of parchment. "Last name?"

"Er…" Danielle thought. "How about Ashford?" Morgan Ashford was her favorite character in _Magic after Dusk,_ a popular book series in her time. In the books, Morgan had been dragged to a school she didn't want to go to, and forced to comply with the rules she had no intention of following. It seemed strangely fitting for Danielle's current predicament.

"Clara Ashford," Dumbledore said. "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Danielle nodded.

"And we'll have your middle name being Marie, in case anyone needs to know," Dumbledore continued. "Let's figure out a story for you, then. What is your birth date?"

"April fifteenth," Danielle said.

"Excellent. So you, Clara Marie Ashford, were born on the fifteenth of April, 1927, in…we'll say Amsterdam, since we don't anyone getting too suspicious. Your parents are the half-blood witch, Marion Tanner-Ashford, and the Muggle-born, Roger Ashford. They're both Dutch and home-schooled."

"But, sir, I don't know how to speak Dutch," Danielle said. Was she going to have to take lessons?

"No matter. They never taught you. Let's see…when you were two years old your parents moved with you to London, where you grew up, hence your accent. You've attended a Muggle school up until now, but your parents have been tutoring you in magic as well. You're an only child and have no pets."

"Why would I need to know this, sir?" Danielle asked, struggling to remember all of the new information.

Dumbledore fixed her with one of his already infamous gazes. "Your story must have no loopholes, Miss Ashford. It would be too easy to figure out otherwise. And I assure you, there _will_ be others trying to find out your true story."

Danielle wanted to ask _What others?_ but Dumbledore had already continued. "Your parents died in an air-raid—remember, a Muggle war is being fought presently as well—on February thirteenth of this year. You've been living with your father's unmarried sister, Helga Ashford, who also lives in London, since their death. Helga sent you to Hogwarts this year, but you will not be going home for the holidays. Nobody should question you farther than that. Do you understand?"

Danielle nodded. "But, sir, what if they _do_ question me farther than that?"

"Then tell me at once," Dumbledore said. He suddenly looked very serious. "Miss Ashford, it is _crucial_ that you do not tell anyone a word of who you truly are. You must keep up your pretense at all times. If you do…you might not be the only one that is in danger."

Danielle nodded again, feeling a sense of foreboding. Why was Dumbledore going to such extremes to warn her?

Then, suddenly, he was warm and friendly again. "Sherbet lemon?" he offered, pointing to a jar on his desk.

Feeling it would be rude not to take one, Danielle popped one into her mouth. It fizzled her teeth, leaving a pleasant buzzing sensation on her tongue.

"Give me your sleeve," Dumbledore suddenly ordered, picking up his wand. Danielle held out her arm to him and he tapped the sleeve once. Instantly, her blue robes turned a mossy green and the eagle on her Prefect badge turned into a snake.

Resisting the urge to shudder, Danielle thanked Dumbledore and stood up. "What do I do now, sir?" she asked.

"You may go down to the Slytherin dormitories and sleep," Dumbledore said gently. "I daresay you need some."

"Where _is_ the Slytherin common room, though, sir?"

"At the entrance to the dungeons," Dumbledore replied. "You'll see a statue of a snake. Give it the password, which is _Émeraude._ It will let you in. The girls' dormitories are on the staircase to the right. You have first pick of the beds."

Danielle ran her hand through her curls, forcing a smile at Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"You're quite welcome, Miss Ashford. Oh, and by the way, your aunt sent me your suitcase and your owl." Dumbledore's light blue eyes were twinkling.

Danielle caught on quickly. "Thank you, sir. And, er, if you don't mind me asking, who is the other Slytherin Prefect?"

All of a sudden, the twinkle went out of the professor's eyes. "His name is Tom Riddle," he said. "I imagine you will find him…interesting."

Danielle frowned. The name rung distantly in her memory, but she couldn't remember why. "Oh. Okay." She stood up and made for the door, but as her hand turned the knob Dumbledore stood up. "Miss Ashford," he said. Danielle turned around, jerking at the sound of her new name.

Dumbledore's blue eyes were infinitely serious as he walked toward her. "Two things. One, do not get too close to anyone here."

Danielle nodded; she could understand that. "I won't. And the second thing, sir?"

Dumbledore's face turned grave. "I must warn you that Tom Riddle is _not what he seems._ Appearances can be deceiving, Miss Ashford. Do not take Mr Riddle at face value."

"Um, sure?" Danielle said, phrasing it like a question.

Dumbledore nodded once, as if to say _go._ More than happy to obey, Danielle wrenched open the door and left his office, walking as fast as she could down the hallway. She could still feel Dumbledore's piercing gaze on her long after she had turned the corner.

Luckily, Danielle didn't run into anyone as she crossed the Entrance Hall and descended the steps to the dungeons. She wasn't sure how she would explain herself if she ran into any of the teachers now.

Dumbledore had been right: there was a large stone statue of a snake just beside the door. " _Émeraude_ ," Danielle said to it, and the snake slithered aside to reveal a small opening through which she crawled through to the Slytherin common room.

The room was low-ceilinged and torches with green flame burned bright on the stone walls. The carpet was thick and—of course—dark green. A magnificent fire roared in the grate and several armchairs rested in front of the fireplace. Overall, the room gave the appearance of being tucked deeply underground. Danielle felt slightly claustrophobic; she was used to the open, airy Ravenclaw Tower.

As Dumbledore had said, there were two staircases at the opposite end of the room, one leading left and one leading right. Danielle crossed the room and ran up the staircase on the right. At the top, a plain wooden door stood slightly ajar. Danielle pushed it open, wondering how Dumbledore knew where the girls' dormitories were.

Five beds were placed along the room, all covered with green bedspreads and quilts. Each bedside table had a (predictably) green lamp, proving what the House's favourite colour was beyond a shadow of a doubt.

_Boy, Slytherins must really like green,_ Danielle thought dryly as she threw herself onto the bed closest to the door. This way, if the girls tried to curse her, she could get to the door quickly.

She rolled over—the bed _was_ comfortable, she gave it that—and spotted a large suitcase lying on the floor. How did it know what bed she chose? Danielle flipped open the clasps to see her uniform and some ordinary Muggle clothes tucked underneath it. _Dumbledore doesn't miss a thing, does he?._

An owl cage was open on the bedside table, but it was empty. Danielle wondered how the owl had flown out when they were obviously underground, but she squinted at the opposite wall and saw a window, just wide enough for an animal to squeeze through. There must be a hidden tunnel that connected the dormitory with the outside world.

Danielle stretched and yawned, curling up on the bed. She _was_ tired, but she wasn't sure if she could sleep…What if she slept through the feast?

_I'll just sleep for ten minutes or so,_ she decided, closing her eyes and letting the exhaustion take her.


	4. Dinner and Dippet

When Danielle next opened her eyes, she wasn't immediately sure where she was—the bright green bedspread and the low ceiling were foreign to her. Then everything came rushing back and she shot up at the memories, her heart pounding crazily. _I'm stuck in the past posing as some orphaned Dutch girl and I'm in Slytherin!_

It took her a few minutes to calm down again and convince herself that she would eventually get back to her own time. Only then did she notice the noise: a distant roar coming from somewhere above her. The rest of the school must have arrived.

That was probably her cue. Trembling, Danielle swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, twisting a curl around her finger. It was a nervous habit of hers, though she hadn't done it in years.

She was eternally grateful that students weren't allowed to come to their common rooms before the feast; Danielle was sure she would be bombarded with questions that she didn't even know the answer to. Perhaps Dumbledore would make some sort of speech at the feast that would elaborate on her life.

When she entered the Entrance Hall, she spotted a large group of first-years clustered together, looking terrified. Danielle slipped past them easily—well, actually, they kind of _ran_ out of her way. At any rate, she could sympathize with them entirely. In a way, this was her very first day at Hogwarts as well.

"Miss Ashford!" an unfamiliar voice called. Remembering a second too late that it was her "new" name, Danielle turned to see an old, squat man hobbling towards her. She assumed this must be Professor Dippet, the Headmaster.

"Hello, sir," Danielle said, her face breaking into a confused expression. "How do you know my name?"

The man chuckled. "I'm Armando Dippet, Hogwarts' headmaster. Albus came to my office earlier and explained your unusual situation. I offer my condolences."

"Thank you," Danielle stuttered. "It's just…hard, you know? I hope I'll make new friends." She grimaced, hoping that she looked convincing enough for him. Then again, her stricken expression was definitely genuine.

But luck—twisted though it was—seemed to be leaning in her favor that evening, and Dippet appeared to believe her.

"Don't fret, Miss Ashford. I'm confident you'll make lots of friends. Even in Slytherin," he added. Danielle pretended not to hear his last comment.

"So where are we going?" she asked, deciding to play dumb for now.

"The Great Hall," Dippet said, pushing her towards the ornate doors. "You've already been Sorted, but I'll introduce you anyway. I think this is the first time ever Hogwarts has had a transfer student. Oh, and a Prefect to boot. You're making history, Miss Ashford!"

Danielle gulped.

Dippet didn't notice her troubled expression. He continued talking to her, but she tuned him out as he opened the doors to the Great Hall.

Before their entrance, the students had been talking excitedly amongst themselves. Now, as Dippet led Danielle inside the room, the chatter immediately quelled, and a hush fell over the room as every head in the room craned to look at Dippet and the strange new girl. Danielle felt a blush cover her cheeks and she stared at the floor, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

With far too much cheeriness, Dippet led her up to the staff table. Danielle could feel every eye in the room trained on her.

"I am pleased to introduce Hogwarts' first ever transfer student," Dippet began, turning toward the sea of faces. Danielle followed suit, though she tried not to look at one person for too long.

"Now, normally Hogwarts does not allow students from other schools, but this is an exception. Miss Clara Ashford, from Holland, will be joining us and I pray that you will welcome her as one of your own. She's been home-schooled up until now, but she is just as knowledgeable about magic as the next person. She is a Slytherin and will be starting her fifth year. Because of the—er— _incident_ involving Olive Hornby and Charlus Potter last June, Miss Ashford will become the new Slytherin female Prefect."

The Slytherin table, on the far right side of the room, immediately broke out into whispers. Now Danielle _knew_ she was blushing.

"Why don't you go sit down, Miss Ashford?" Dippet offered. When Danielle didn't move right away, he had to prod her in the back. She stumbled down the steps, and there was an outbreak of snickering.

Trying very hard not to cry, Danielle slid onto the Slytherin bench, a few feet away from the nearest person, a girl who looked around her age.

"Hey!" the girl hissed. Danielle looked up from the empty plate. The girl, who had short red hair cut into a bob and bright blue eyes, was actually _smiling._ This was a first—a Slytherin smiling.

The girl scooted over to her, eyes dancing. "I'm Alyssa MacDougal. Fifth-year."

"Clara Ashford," said Danielle, feeling stupid. "But I suppose you already know that."

Alyssa laughed. "Welcome to Hogwarts. And Slytherin."

"Thanks," Danielle said gratefully.

Dippet, who was busy giving a speech, narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin table. Alyssa giggled again and gave Dippet a little wave. Danielle could have sworn he rolled his eyes.

"Ignore Dippy," Alyssa whispered in Danielle's ear. "He might seem mean but really he's an old softie."

"All right," Danielle whispered back, feeling intimidated. Everything about Alyssa was alive: her eyes, her mouth, and even her hands were moving all the time. She seemed to be a very extroverted person and not at all like a Slytherin—or at least unlike any Slytherin Danielle had ever known.

Dippet finished his speech and the Hall burst into applause. Alyssa clapped her hands together a few times impatiently before pulling on Danielle's sleeve. "I'd like to introduce you to my brother, Dylan." She poked the boy on her other side, who was the male version of her. He had the exact same carrot-red hair, blue eyes, and mass of freckles.

"We're twins," Alyssa hissed in Danielle's ear. "But I'm two minutes older." She stuck her tongue out at Dylan, who gave his sister an exasperated glance and smiled briefly at Danielle before turning back to the front.

"He's just a spoilsport," Alyssa said, smacking her brother. He swore and glared at her.

Danielle wondered why none of the Slytherins were turning to stop them.

By now the first-years she had passed before were lined up and standing at the back of the Hall. With the call of "Applebee, Janice!" the Sorting began. Danielle watched it interestedly, feeling a slight shock every time a name was called that she knew. It was surprising, really, how many people were the grandparents or great-grandparents of the people she went to school with. At least Danielle wouldn't have to worry about seeing _her_ family here—Mr and Mrs Bailey were both Muggle-borns.

Beside Danielle, Alyssa was fidgeting in her seat. "I wish they'd hurry up," she moaned. "The Sorting always takes too long."

She'd barely finished her sentence when "Zimmerman, Cole!" was sorted into Hufflepuff and Dippet rolled up his scroll. "Enjoy the feast!" he called, and instantly the plates were covered with food.

Alyssa gave a little squeal of excitement and instantly dove into the food, shoving an entire piece of bread into her mouth. Danielle noticed Dylan give her a withering look before taking a small bite of his chicken.

"So," said Alyssa through a mouthful of food, "You moved here from Holland, right? Why?"

"My parents died," Danielle answered, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. She hoped her voice didn't sound too emotionless.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alyssa said, her face falling slightly. "I don't know what I'd do if my parents ever died. They're everything to me."

"And I'm not?" Dylan asked mockingly, speaking for the first time.

"Nah. You're disposable," Alyssa said, swatting his head.

"Gee, thanks," Dylan rolled his eyes. "You'll have to ignore my sister," he said to Danielle. "She gets a little crazy sometimes."

"I can see that." Danielle smiled.

"Anyway," said Alyssa excitedly, "I'm so glad you're in Slytherin! My only friend is Dylan. Everyone else hates me." She didn't sound remotely sad about this fact.

Danielle would never say it out loud, but she could kind of see why. Surely Alyssa would have done much better in Hufflepuff or even Gryffindor.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Dylan asked.

"Y—No." Danielle stopped herself at the last second, trying to push the thought of Andy out of her mind.

"You must have been lonely, then," Alyssa said. "Hey, wait—if you lived in Holland, then why do you have an English accent? Were your parents English?"

Danielle struggled to remember the story Dumbledore had told her. "I was born in Amsterdam, but I moved to London when I was two."

"Oh," said Dylan. "So you don't speak Dutch, then?"

Danielle shook her head.

"You're a city slicker, then." Alyssa smirked.

"Wait, what?"

"A city slicker," Dylan repeated. "Someone who comes from the city?"

"Oh—yeah, I am, then," Danielle said quickly, mentally kicking herself. Of course some of the slang would be different in 1942. She'd have to learn the language to blend in.

"How'd your parents die?" Alyssa asked. Dylan frowned at her.

"Don't be so rude, Lyssa. You don't have to tell us, Clara," he said.

"No, it's fine. They died in an air-raid," Danielle admitted.

"I hate air-raids," Alyssa said sympathetically. "Even though we can protect ourselves easily, there's just something about them that scares me. Especially that siren—ugh!" She shuddered.

There was a brief silence in which the three of them ate—well, Danielle pretended to eat so she could avoid the stares thrown at her by the other students—and wondering who else she knew, kind of, in this school.

"Anyway," Alyssa said, breaking the silence, "I suppose I'd better introduce you to the other fifth-years. The other years don't really matter, because you won't be having any classes with them. They basically ignore you."

"Wait, Lyssa," Dylan said. "What blood status are you?" he asked Danielle.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Half-blood."

"Half?" Alyssa asked. "That's actually quite uncommon. Most of the Slytherins are pure-blooded."

"My mother was a half-blood and my father was a Muggle-born," Danielle said. "But…does that really matter?" She held her breath.

Dylan shrugged. "No," he said. "But just to warn you, we're probably the only Slytherins that think that. They're all pure-blood bigots." His tone turned sour at the end.

"Are you two pure-bloods?" Danielle asked.

Alyssa nodded. "As pure as they get. But we don't really care. In fact, we don't even know why we're both in Slytherin. The Hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor and Dylan in Hufflepuff." She made a _'Who knows_?' gesture.

"You don't seem like much of a Slytherin yourself," Dylan said.

"I know," Danielle nodded. "That's what I was thinking when Headmaster Dippet gave me the description of the four Houses." She cast the Ravenclaw table a longing look.

"Who knows?" Alyssa said brightly, looping her skinny arm over Danielle's shoulders. "But however it happened, you're stuck with us!"

"Thanks," said Danielle, feeling strangely gratified.

"Now where was I?" Alyssa mused. "Oh yeah—the other fifth-years. Well, the girls are me, you, Walburga Black, Angela Greengrass and Olive Hornby. You'll probably have Anastasia Goyle's bed—she had to leave school permanently last year after she came down with spattergroit."

"Olive Hornby," Danielle mused. "Wasn't she the Slytherin prefect before me?"

"She was _supposed_ to be," Dylan corrected. "Only, I don't think she's very happy now. She was bragging about it on the train, and you should have seen her face when Dippet announced that you were to be the other Prefect."

"And I don't think she wanted to be a Prefect just for the responsibilities," Alyssa said darkly. "The reason she was so desperate to be one can be boiled down to just two words: _Tom Riddle._ "

"Tom Riddle?" Danielle echoed, remembering what Dumbledore had told her. "He's the other Slytherin prefect, right?"

"Yep," Alyssa said. "He has perfect grades, a perfect voice, a perfect smile, and a perfect body." She sighed, apparently lost in her daydream of Tom Riddle. "You're so lucky to be able to work with him. Hornby's fancied him since first year, but he's never even so much as spoken to her." She frowned. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen Riddle with a girl before."

"It's strange," Dylan added. "He's never mentioned having a girlfriend before. But you'd think, with having half the girls fancy him, that he'd at least take advantage—"

" _Dylan_ _!_ " Alyssa shrieked, so loudly that Danielle cringed. "Don't be such a _pervert_ _!_ I think it's sweet that Riddle doesn't take advantage of girls. It shows he respects them."

"Or it shows he's gay," Danielle shrugged, shoving a forkful of potato into her mouth. Seeing their blank expressions, she added, "Erm—queer?"

There was a shocked silence before Alyssa burst out laughing. "Did you—did you just call Tom Riddle _queer_ _?_ " she wheezed in between spasms of laughter, nearly choking on her supper.

There were a few startled gasps from the rest of the Slytherin table, and Danielle looked up, cheeks flaming, to see the entire table staring open-mouthed at her. "I was just joking! I—I wasn't serious," whispered Danielle, feeling humiliated. "And besides, it's not a bad thing, anyway." _Why_ did Alyssa have to have such a loud voice?

"Why are you all looking?" Dylan snapped at the Slytherins, motioning with his hands for them to go back to eating. "You must be used to my sister's attacks by now. She sometimes hallucinates."

Danielle felt a rush of appreciation towards Dylan as the Slytherins turned away one by one. "Thanks," she said gratefully, hoping he would hear it over Alyssa's gasps of laughter.

"No problem," Dylan said back. "Though, you're very lucky Riddle's not even here."

"He isn't?" Danielle asked, craning her neck to look down the table, even though she had no idea what Riddle looked like.

"He's almost never here at mealtimes," Dylan said. "It's a weird habit of his—maybe he's afraid of having people watch him eat or something."

"How mysterious," Danielle said dryly. Dumbledore's cryptic warning echoed in her head. She glanced over at Alyssa, who had (thankfully) stopped laughing. She'd acted like Riddle was the best thing since Chocolate Frogs. And then there was the Slytherin table's reaction when Alyssa had shrieked his name. Danielle's eyebrows raised slightly. She hadn't even seen him yet, but he already appeared to be a very mystifying person.

Someone cleared their throat from behind her, and Danielle turned to see Headmaster Dippet standing a few feet away. "A word, please, Miss Ashford?" he asked.

"Erm, sure." Danielle untangled her legs from the table and stood up, avoiding the school's curious gazes.

"Hi, Headmaster!" Alyssa said excitedly. Dylan rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Miss MacDougal," Dippet deadpanned. "Have you finished your dinner, Miss Ashford?"

Danielle glanced down at her plate, which was still half-filled with food. But she wasn't very hungry anyway. "Yeah," she lied.

"Yeah?" Dippet inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"I mean, yes, sir," Danielle quickly corrected herself.

Dippet's eyebrows lowered, though he continued to stare at her suspiciously. "I'd like to have a word with you about becoming a Prefect and your duties. Normally I would have explained all this in a letter over the summer, but seeing as how this was only decided quite recently…"

"All right, sir," Danielle said, seeing he was expecting her to say something. "I'll try my hardest to be a model Prefect, Professor."

Dippet relaxed. "Good, good," he said. "But be warned, you'll have a lot to live up to, what with Tom Riddle being your partner."

Danielle smiled, though inwardly she was a bit irritated. Tom Riddle _again._ What the hell was so special about him? Had he cast a love spell over everyone?

"If you'll follow me, Miss Ashford," Dippet was saying, "I'll show you to the Prefects' common room."

Finally, what she'd been waiting for! Danielle had wanted to go to what was probably the most beautiful room in the school ever since she'd been a first-year. Now, she wasn't sure if the room had changed, well, _would_ change in the next sixty years, but it was still the same room, right?

"See you later?" Danielle asked Alyssa as she made to follow Dippet.

"Later!" Alyssa echoed, grinning at Danielle. "Have fun with Mr Riddle! I bet that tonight you'll be just as enamored with him as I am!"

Danielle actually rolled her eyes this time as she followed Dippet out of the Great Hall and across the Entrance Hall to the Grand Staircase. Dippet was explaining things to her as he went, but Danielle wasn't listening. She seemed to be doing that a lot. Dippet was one of those people who could be describing a narrow escape from death yet still managing to make it sound uninteresting.

So tuned out was she that she barely noticed when another set of quiet footsteps joined theirs. "Headmaster," a soft voice breathed right beside her ear. Danielle jumped. "I just patrolled the school. Everything seems to be in order."

Dippet chuckled. " _Excellent_ , Tom! By Jove, you get more perfect by the day, don't you?"

Resisting the urge to gag, Danielle turned to see the _famous_ Tom Riddle. Expecting a geeky boy with glasses and an acne-scarred face, her jaw dropped so low it nearly hit the floor.

Tom Riddle was _handsome._ His skin was so pale he resembled a ghost, stretched tight over his high cheekbones. Dark, slightly wavy hair was neatly parted at the side, and his facial features were perfectly symmetrical. Danielle's stunned gaze traveled lower, to his green Slytherin robes that outfitted his muscular body so perfectly—

Then he turned to look at her. His eyes were dark blue with just a hint of black in them. Blue fire.

"Good evening," Tom Riddle said, the hint of a smile on his flawless face. "I don't believe I have seen you before."

"That's probably because you haven't," Danielle said, hoping her words would come across as sarcastic although she knew she sounded slightly breathless. It was ridiculous that she should fall to pieces just because he was a tiny bit attractive (although, to be fair, 'a tiny bit attractive' was a gross understatement). What would her parents say if they knew she was gawking at a boy seventy years older than her instead of trying to find a way back home?

"Tom," said Dippet, putting a hand on Danielle's shoulder, "This is Miss Clara Ashford. She's Hogwarts newest student."

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Ashford," Riddle said politely. "I hope that you will enjoy it here."

Danielle smiled at him, but privately she was wondering how sincere he was. In her time, boys like him weren't Prefects—they were too busy skipping class and seeing how many girls they could sleep with in a month. Perhaps her previous assumption _had_ been correct and Riddle had cast a love spell over everyone. After all, she supposed, being ridiculously handsome and a Prefect would certainly work to his advantage. If Riddle was just pretending, then Danielle had to give it to him: she wouldn't have seen such flattery since her father had tried to bribe Professor McGonagall into letting Andy play on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in his first year.

"Miss Ashford will be replacing Olive Hornby as your fellow Slytherin prefect," Dippet said. "I hope you two will get along well."

"I daresay we shall," Riddle replied, his voice literally dripping with sugar—or at least Danielle imagined it to be.

"Why don't you show Miss Ashford around the school?" Dippet asked. "You can also explain the rules of being a Prefect to her. After all, you'll be working together for the next couple of years."

Danielle's face broke into a real smile for the first time since she had landed back in the past. Little did Dippet know. She looked up at Riddle's disgustingly perfect face, and her smile grew wider. He _couldn't_ honestly be so polite and obsequious naturally. It just…wasn't _possible_ to be that courteous and that attractive at the same time. In Danielle's experience, it was either one or the other.

She had two choices now. She could develop a crush on Riddle like the rest of the girls in school—and she knew she would eventually if she didn't do something to stop it—or she could prove Alyssa wrong and try to find some sort of flaw. Danielle was known to overanalyze everyone and everything, and the Ravenclaw part of her was uncomfortable that she couldn't get a proper reading on Riddle.

But her next words escaped her mouth before she could carefully prepare a plan: "Oh, _thank you,_ Professor," she simpered. "I'm so honored to be chosen as a Prefect. Professor Dumbledore is so kind."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riddle's face twitch, and carefully filed that away for later. Perhaps he had some sort of opposition against Dumbledore. It would be evidence she could use against him.

"Yes, we all love Professor Dumbledore," Dippet said happily. He beamed at the two of them. "Now _shoo!_ I trust you will be doing nothing other than strictly school work?"

Danielle tried to look confused. "What do you mean, nothing other than strictly school work? I won't do anything I'm not supposed to, Professor."

Dippet immediately looked ashamed. "I know, Miss Ashford! I just have to remind you—a regulation, you know." Danielle couldn't believe he actually bought it.

Riddle put a hand on Danielle's arm. "Thank you, Headmaster. Come on, Miss Ashford, let's go." He walked into the nearest room, nearly dragging her behind him.

"Why'd you bring us in _here_ , Tom?" Danielle asked as she followed him, looking around the empty classroom. Riddle had shut the door behind them.

He glanced over at her once as if judging her. When he saw nothing but childish innocence, he sighed and ran one of his hands through his hair, seeming as if he was concentrating hard on something. "There is another door that leads to the Prefects' common room," he said, striding across the room to examine the wall.

" _Really?_ " Danielle asked falsely, bounding over to him. "I never knew that!"

"Well, you know now," he smiled. Danielle searched his face to find any note of falseness; but the boy was a talented actor, she gave him that. If he really _was_ acting…perhaps Dylan had been correct and the reason he had never been seen with a girl was because he was a teacher's pet or a suck-up. If that was the case, his looks were certainly wasted on him.

Riddle pulled out his wand and muttered a spell under his breath. A second later, the wall slid open to reveal a staircase spiraling downwards.

"Wow!" Danielle breathed, being careful to not overdo it. She didn't want Riddle catching on to her plan. Not that there actually _was_ a plan. She had no idea why she was doing this.

"Go on," he offered, stepping aside so she could go first. Danielle beamed at him and skipped down the flight of steps, stopping at a door that was slightly ajar.

"This is the Prefects' common room, right?" she asked excitedly as Riddle appeared beside her.

"Yes," he said, preparing to open the door. But Danielle squealed and tugged on his arm, stopping him from opening it fully. She noticed how he yanked his arm back much faster than was necessary.

"Don't show it to me yet, Tom!" Danielle squealed, putting her hands over her eyes. "I want to be surprised!"

"You _are_ going to have to see it sometime, you know," Riddle replied. His tone was light, teasing, but without the distraction of his face Danielle could sense a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Okay!" Danielle trilled. "You can show me now!"

She heard a soft sigh, almost imperceptible, and then the creak of the door opening. Something gently prodded her in the back, and she stepped forward into what she could already tell was a very large room.

"Open your eyes," Riddle said. Danielle obeyed, and the gasp of surprise that came out of her mouth wasn't, this time, acted.

It was a large, airy room, not unlike Ravenclaw Tower. Couches and chairs were scattered around the room, all in the four colours of Hogwarts. A roaring fire blazed merrily in the grate, and a large window covered the entire northern wall, giving them a spectacular view of the grounds and lake. And to Danielle's delight, shelves and shelves of books covered the walls. She could barely restrain herself from running at them.

"Do you like it?" Riddle asked quietly, striding over to one of the armchairs and sitting down. Danielle followed him hesitantly, trying to discern his tone of voice. She couldn't tell whether he was interested in her opinion or not.

"I love it!" Danielle said, clapping her hands together. She looked at Riddle to see him examining her carefully with those dark blue eyes. His gaze was so intense that she had the sudden urge to run away, but she met his eyes boldly.

He was the first one to look away, looking out the window as if concentrating on something in the distance. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Miss Ashford?"

"Call me Clara," Danielle said, giggling. "I'm already calling you Tom. And yes, you may ask me a few questions." She made the effort to sound as flirty as possible while inwardly retching. She couldn't believe she was acting like this—now she sounded exactly like the girls she hated in the future, the girls who had laughed at her and jinxed her when she wasn't paying attention. It had gotten so bad by third year that Danielle had spent most of her time hiding in the library. But that didn't matter now; they weren't here, and at least she could model her behaviour after them.

"Why are you here?" Riddle asked. Now he turned and looked straight at her. "Hogwarts does not have transfer students. You must be related to one of the teachers." He sounded merely curious, but Danielle wondered if it went deeper than that.

"Hogwarts doesn't?" she asked, sounding confused. "That's weird. Anyway, I was born in Amsterdam. When I was two years old I moved to London with my parents—"

"Why?" Riddle leaned forward. Danielle was slightly put off.

"The Great Depression, remember? Muggle stock market crash, and all that." At least, that was what she hoped had happened. Because if it wasn't, she was royally screwed. "So, that's basically it. I've lived in London for all these years; that's why I have an accent. I've been home schooled—don't ask me why, my parents were strange like that—but they also taught me magic." Danielle shrugged and pulled on a vacant expression as her eyes roved hungrily over a book lying on the table next to her.

"That still does not answer my question," Riddle said. Danielle could feel him staring at her. "Why did you come to Hogwarts?"

"It was their wish," Danielle said. _In their will, apparently._

"And why are you speaking about them in past tense?" Riddle continued. "They _were_ weird like that, it _was_ their wish."

Danielle finally had to give it to him; he was very perceptive. He was more intelligent than he let on. Maybe that was why all the professors loved him so much. And now she was _sure_ this model-student image was a façade. She noticed the hard edge to his tone, his carefully guarded expression. Now she was more determined than ever to figure out why this was; why he wasn't revealing his true self. He would let his guard down eventually. It was all a matter of finding his weak spot.

"They're dead," Danielle said bluntly.

Something very close to an emotion flickered across Riddle's guardedly polite face. "Dead?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Air-raid. I survived because I got to the shelter in time. They weren't so lucky, though," Danielle said, deliberately not blinking. Soon enough, she felt tears sting her eyes and she let one fall, looking down shyly.

Riddle was silent. "I am…very sorry to hear that. When did they die?"

She looked up, surprised. "February thirteenth." Then, because the question was sure to come, she added, "I've lived with my aunt Helga, my father's sister, since then."

"She lives in London?" Riddle asked.

Danielle nodded. "I don't like her, but it was either her or the orphanage."

At the mention of the orphanage Riddle's eyes visibly narrowed, like when she'd mentioned Dumbledore, but his face quickly smoothed over. Danielle inwardly cheered at having finally gotten a true emotion out of him.

"So, what about you?" Danielle asked cheerfully, playing dumb. "What are your parents like?"

"I do not know," he said slowly. "I have never met them."

"They're six feet under as well?" Danielle joked. Really, it was getting quite tiring to play this perpetually happy and annoying person. It reminded her inextricably of Alyssa. But Alyssa was naturally like this. Danielle wasn't. Maybe that was why—

Danielle's train of thought was interrupted as Riddle suddenly stood up, raising his wand. He towered over her, and for a split second there was true anger in his eyes. Then he relaxed, and his expression was one of perfect civility again. "Shall we go over the Prefect schedule?" he asked, his voice quiet and muted.

"Sure!" giggled Danielle, pretending she hadn't noticed. "Now, do we patrol together, or will we be separated?"

"Together," Riddle said, though Danielle was sure he wished this wasn't the case. "Except for in between classes. If, at any time, you see someone doing something they should not be doing—I trust you know the basics of right and wrong—do not hesitate to give them detention, or take off House points. We patrol once nightly, from nine to twelve."

"So I get to spend three hours with you a night, as well as classes?" Danielle said adoringly.

"Yes," Riddle said, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "And I think that is everything. Any questions?"

"Nope!" Danielle exclaimed, popping the 'p'. She suddenly leapt up from her chair, causing Riddle to take a step backwards in alarm. "Are we doing patrol tonight?"

"I thought you said you did not have any questions," Riddle pointed out.

"I changed my mind," Danielle chirped. In a moment of recklessness, she grabbed Riddle's arm and latched onto it, laughing.

As before, he pulled it away almost instantly. Something like disgust crossed over his face. Danielle pretended to be hurt. "Don't you like me, Tom?" she asked, puckering her lips slightly.

"I have only known you for half an hour," he pointed out. "Surely you agree that is not enough time to determine someone's true character."

"Yeah!" Danielle said shrilly, smiling brightly at him. "But you didn't answer my first question, Tom."

"What—oh." She was pleased to see she'd caught him off guard. "I can do Prefect duty alone tonight."

"Why? What about me?" Danielle's face fell.

He didn't react. "You must be under great stress, Miss Ashford. You only came to Hogwarts today—you need your sleep."

Danielle nodded and made her way over to the door. She didn't know how she'd be able to sleep that night…knowing she was seventy years away from where she _should_ be…

A stricken expression crossed her face, but she quickly smothered it like Riddle had done countless times this evening. It felt like it would kill her to do it, but she pulled on the happy-go-lucky pretense once more. "Goodnight, Tom!" she called into the room, and bounded away, her black curls flying in every direction. Only then did she remember the Muggle book _Goodnight Mr Tom._ Danielle tried not to laugh, but the giggles escaped her, and her laughter echoed right down the hallway and back into the Prefects' common room. It was only when she was sure he was out of earshot that she stopped and slumped against the wall, burying her face in her hands.

She was an idiot. What in the name of Merlin had gotten into her?


	5. Spiders

When Danielle stuck her head back in the Entrance Hall, everyone was just getting up, stuffed from the beginning-of-year feast. She scanned the Slytherins for two familiar faces, and grinned in spite of herself when she saw Alyssa and Dylan. Alyssa, of course, yelled and bounded toward Danielle, throwing her arms around her neck. "Hey!" she yelped. "Did you meet Tommy boy?"

"Oof— _yes_ ," Danielle grunted. For such a skinny person, Alyssa was _strong._

"What happened?" Dylan asked. "Was he nice to you?"

"Of course he was nice!" Alyssa said scathingly. "He's nice to everyone. Not that he's ever said a word to me," she added as an afterthought.

"He's certainly a riddle," Danielle agreed, then smirked at her choice of words.

"I share a dormitory with him, and I don't know anything more about him than I did the very first day of school," Dylan said. "He mostly keeps to himself. I've only seen him with five or six friends." He began counting them off on his fingers as they descended the stairs to the dungeons. "Abraxas Malfoy—he's in my dorm—and Orion Black. Also a few sixth-and seventh-years. All Slytherin, of course."

"What about Alphard Black?" Alyssa asked. "He's in your dorm too."

"Yes, but Alphard is actually a decent person. He's the most un-Slytherin Slytherin I've ever met, including me and you," Dylan said.

"Hey—Clara—you'd better watch out," Alyssa hissed in Danielle's ear, unsmiling for once. "Olive Hornby is coming towards us, and she looks angry."

Danielle turned to see a pretty girl with long, wavy mahogany hair and chocolate-brown eyes stomping towards them. Her striking features were somewhat offset by the murderous expression on her face.

" _You!_ " she hissed at Danielle, stopping in front of her.

An idea began to form in Danielle's mind. " _Play along_ ," she mouthed to Alyssa before turning to Olive. "Yes?" she asked brightly, trying to look as annoying as possible. If her act worked on Riddle, perhaps it would work on this girl as well.

Olive's eyes bulged. " _You're_ the one that stole my Prefect badge! I was supposed to be the Prefect!"

Danielle clapped a hand over her mouth. "Really? I didn't know that! I'm _so_ sorry!"

Olive looked surprised in spite of herself. Whatever reaction she had been hoping for, it was not this. "What?"

Danielle pulled her Prefect badge off of her robes and handed it to Olive. "Here you go—Olive, wasn't it?" She smiled sweetly at her. "I'm sorry. The teachers must have mixed us up. You're smarter and prettier than me. How could I ever do a better job than you?"

Looking stunned, Olive took the badge and pinned it onto her own robes. "It seems you've come to your senses." She smiled smugly at Danielle.

"That's great to hear!" Danielle said enthusiastically. She looped her arm through Olive's. "Can you show me how you do that to your hair? We're sharing a dorm, after all! Let's not get off to a bad start and be best friends, right?"

"Right," Olive agreed, still looking like she had just been hit in the head by a Bludger. Danielle giggled infuriatingly and strode off with her, stopping only to turn around to the open-mouthed Alyssa and Dylan and wink.

She let Olive lead her into the Slytherin common room and up the stone staircase to her dormitory.

"Now," Olive was saying, "the bed closest to the door is mine—" She gasped as she registered Danielle's suitcase and owl cage on the floor beside the bed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that too!" Danielle gulped, unhooking her arm from Olive's and rushing over to put her luggage by another bed. "Here. You can have the bed."

"Thank you," Olive said smugly. She stretched out on the bed and put her arms behind her head, smiling conceitedly up at the ceiling. Danielle sat on the edge of her new bed, staring at Olive with a peculiar expression on her face.

Suddenly Olive screamed and leapt off the bed. Several spiders were scuttling across the bedspread. "S-s- _spiders!_ " Olive panted, pointing in horror at them.

"I know what to do!" Danielle said. She jumped off her bed and pointed her wand at the spiders. _"Engorgio!_ " The spiders grew to twice their normal size.

Olive screamed again and actually ran out of the room, nearly crashing into Alyssa. "Clara, what's—" Alyssa shrieked, too, as she caught sight of the spiders and Danielle frantically trying to shrink them.

"Shut up!" Danielle hissed, grabbing onto her friend's robes. "It's part of the plan!"

Alyssa stopped shrieking, but her eyes were bulging and she was gripping the doorknob harder than was absolutely necessary.

Danielle flicked her wand and the spiders jumped off of the bed and scuttled toward the door. Alyssa gave a choked sort of scream as they crawled over her feet on their way out.

"Come on!" Danielle said, pushing past Alyssa out onto the balcony that looked over the common room. The spiders were crawling up the railing onto the ledge. Danielle waved her wand and they jumped off of the railing and onto various armchairs, couches and tables around the room where the Slytherins were relaxing.

To her credit, Danielle didn't know the spiders would cause such an uproar. She'd thought that some person would simply Vanish them, but apparently the Slytherins weren't very intelligent. One person screamed, and soon the entire room was in chaos, leaping and scrambling over each other in the rush to get away from the creatures.

Danielle was pleased to see Olive was the last person in the bunch, and screaming hysterically as a spider crawled just inches from her foot.

It must have looked a very odd scene: a crowd of Slytherins fighting their way towards the door, with two fifth-years watching the scene on the upstairs balcony. Danielle had long ago shrunk the spiders back to their normal size, but nobody seemed to have noticed.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" a voice asked from the door, struggling to be heard over all the noise. The mad rush stopped to see the newcomer.

Tom Riddle stood in the doorway, wand aloft and looking as emotionless as ever. Danielle shivered at the expression on his face. It was blank, uncaring, but she could tell there was something brewing underneath. She mentally added another point to her list of things weird with Tom Riddle.

Olive, who'd pushed her way to the front of the crowd, clutched Riddle's arm. Danielle noticed he did not pull away from her. "There are huge spiders!" she gasped. "They were on my bed!"

Riddle moved effortlessly through the crowd of Slytherins—well, it was more like _they_ parted for _him_ —and coolly surveyed the scene in front of him. "I would not call these _huge spiders_ , Olive," he said calmly. "They are hardly larger than garden spiders."

"But—but—but—" Olive sputtered. "They were bigger before! Right?" But nobody came to her aid.

" _Evanesco,_ " Riddle said quietly. The spiders instantly disappeared. "I must say, I am surprised that none of you thought to use a Vanishing spell." He was still calm, soft, yet there was a dangerous edge to his voice, almost like he was punishing them.

" _Clara_ _!_ " Olive shrieked. All heads turned to her, then snapped to Danielle, who was still standing at the balcony like a queen surveying her subjects. "You conjured those spiders! I know, because they weren't there before!"

"I didn't!" Danielle protested, although she was sure Riddle knew she was lying. She took a step back. "They were there all the time! I was going to tell you, but then you screamed!"

Olive stopped, cocking her head. "Really? You saw them as soon as we came in?"

"Not as _soon_ as we came in," Danielle pretended to be ashamed. "Only when they bit you."

"They _bit_ me?" Olive screeched, turning absolutely hysterical. "Oh no! I'm going to die! I'm going to die!" She ran around the common room clutching her leg. It would have been a funny sight if not for the now livid expression on Riddle's face. Danielle actually took another step backwards as he turned towards her.

"Miss Ashford," Riddle said deliberately, pronouncing each syllable slowly, carefully, "May I speak to you in private?"

Beside her, Alyssa cackled wildly, but Danielle ignored her and abruptly turned around, walking down the winding stone staircase until she reached the bottom, each step thudding loudly.

Riddle was waiting for her, arms crossed over his chest. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes.

The realization hit Danielle at once. Dumbledore had been right: Riddle wasn't the charming, polite gentleman he pretended to be. He was, like her, simply an actor. His charismatic exterior hid his true self. Danielle couldn't tell what that "true self" was, but she had caught a glimpse of his anger when she had asked about his parents, and she knew he was dangerous.

"Hello, Tom," Danielle said, trying to sound perky but failing. Riddle looked at her strangely for a second before turning around and walking to the doorway. It was his unspoken wish that Danielle come with him. Silently, she followed him, ignoring the whispering Slytherins and the still-hyperventilating Olive.

Riddle had stopped just inside the doorway to the Potions classroom, his figure cloaked in shadow. All Danielle could see was a sliver of his pale face.

"Would you care to explain what happened?" Riddle asked, his voice low and persuasive. He didn't sound angry; just tired.

"I _didn't_ do it!" Danielle lied. "I swear."

Riddle took a step forward into the light. His eyes glowed, reflected by the torches shining from the staircase. "Are you sure, Miss Ashford?" he asked. "This kind of behaviour does not look so good on your Prefect record." It sounded like he was simply concerned about her well-being, but Danielle was inclined to think otherwise.

"But I'm not a Prefect!" she whined.

Riddle frowned. "Of course you are. Why else would Headmaster Dippet—"

"Olive's the _real_ female Slytherin Prefect!" Danielle said. "She told me that I stole the Prefect badge from her, so I gave to back to her." She shrugged.

Riddle stared at her for another second, incredulousness written all over his face. Just as Danielle was congratulating herself for having gotten another emotion out of him, the blank mask slipped over his face again. "I think…Olive…must have been mistaken," he finally said. "The Headmaster's word is final."

"But—then that means Olive lied to me!" Danielle wailed. "She said she was my best friend!" _Merlin, I hope I'm not overdoing it. This is completely insane. I've gone mad._

Riddle, clearly out of his element, was probably torn between comforting her and cursing her. He settled for muttering something Danielle could not quite hear. It was either "Please don't cry" or "Pathetic little girl." Maybe it was both.

" _To-om!"_ a voice sang, and a brown-haired witch threw herself at Riddle, nearly knocking him over. Riddle stood there, flabbergasted, as Olive Hornby hugged him tightly around the middle. "Thank you for saving me!" she cried. "You're so strong!"

Danielle nearly gagged at her, but managed to stop herself just in time. She took a step towards the stone snake, fully intending to quietly slip away, but by this time Riddle had pulled Olive off of him. "Thank you, Miss Hornby," he said, voice smooth as always. "I try to do my best."

That did it: now she was _certain_ that Riddle was acting. She had never heard anyone speak that eloquently before, and although customs were surely different in the forties, she had yet to hear any of the people _here_ speak like that, whether they were a student or professor. Danielle actually did roll her eyes this time. This did not escape the notice of Riddle, who looked at her questioningly. _Oops. Please don't suspect anything, please don't suspect anything…_

"Now, Miss Hornby, what is all this business about you being a Prefect?" Riddle asked, turning back into an impassive statue.

Olive's face hardened. "As anyone can see, _I'm_ the rightful Prefect!" she complained. "I mean, why did Headmaster Dippet give Clara the job when she just came to Hogwarts? She doesn't even know her way around here!"

"My mother was good friends with Dumbledore," Danielle piped up. "I've known him since I was young."

Riddle's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch as he turned to Danielle. "Is that so?" he asked, though Danielle was sure he didn't believe her.

She nodded fervently. "Yes, it is so."

Riddle shook his head once, as if to clear it. "Miss Hornby, I am afraid you are going to have to give your Prefect badge back to Miss Ashford. It is Professor Dumbledore's wish that she is one." Now it was Danielle's turn to look at Riddle oddly. It was almost like he had spat Dumbledore's name.

Olive looked like she was going to cry. "But—Tom—wouldn't you rather be with me than her?" She sneered. Danielle gritted her teeth.

"I have no preference," Riddle said dispassionately. "I am just following the Headmaster's orders, Olive. Speak with him about this matter, not me."

Olive looked crushed. "I thought you liked me, Tom!"

"I do," Riddle said, sounding perfectly sincere.

"Thanks, Olive!" Danielle chirped, grabbing the Prefect badge out of her hands and interrupting whatever Riddle had been about to say next. "Oh, and I'll sleep in that bed if you want—I'm not scared of spiders."

Olive's eyes narrowed, and for a second Danielle thought she saw right through her plan. Then her features relaxed, and she nodded. "Sure, Clara. Best friends, right?"

"Best friends!" Danielle repeated, grinning widely. Olive grabbed Danielle's hand, and they skipped back inside the common room, away from Riddle.

* * *

The other girls were already getting ready for bed when Danielle and Olive came into the room. Alyssa had, thankfully, claimed the bed next to Danielle's. When she saw Danielle, her eyes lit up. "That was absolutely _brilliant_ _!_ " she whispered as Danielle flopped onto her bed. "How do you do it?"

"A magician never reveals her secrets," Danielle said slyly. Throwing her wand down on the bedside table, yawning, she surveyed the dormitory. Olive had claimed the bed on the other side of Alyssa, and across from Olive were two other beds. Danielle looked closely at the girl with long, sleek dark hair and unfriendly gray eyes. She figured this must be Walburga Black. And the girl beside Walburga must be Angela Greengrass. She was very pale and beautiful, with wispy blonde hair that reached her shoulders and hazel eyes. When she caught Danielle staring at her, she smiled. "Hello," she said in a soft voice. "You're Clara Ashford, right?"

Danielle nodded. "Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Angela Greengrass." She stuck her hand out to Danielle, who took it. "How are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?"

"I find it very...interesting," Danielle replied.

"Hopefully you'll have a good time here," Angela said before she went back to unpacking.

_Wow. She seems nice too. Maybe Slytherin isn't as bad as I thought it would be..._ Danielle's gaze shifted to Walburga, who purposely avoided her eyes. _Never mind._

"So, what did Riddle want to talk to you about?" Alyssa asked as she got dressed into a pair of pink pajamas. Danielle hid her smile behind her curtain of hair.

"Just about the spiders," Danielle shrugged. "I told him I didn't have anything to do with it, and he believed me."

Alyssa was trying very hard not to laugh out loud, pressing a hand over her mouth. Danielle prayed she wouldn't spoil it.

"He also made me give Clara _my_ Prefect badge," Olive said snootily. She flipped her curtain of mahogany hair over her shoulder and stalked over to Danielle. She bent her head close to Danielle's ear and hissed, "If you really want to be my friend, you will just stay away from Tom Riddle. He's _mine_."

Danielle took a step backwards and shrugged. "I will," she said. "Tom's not my type anyway."

Apparently satisfied, Olive nodded and went back to her bed, where she proceeded to decorate her space with all manners of makeup and wizarding perfume.

Danielle watched her for a moment, then bit her lip and winced, mostly to herself, before getting ready for bed.


	6. First Clue

A soft green light woke her the next morning. Danielle groaned and shut her eyes tighter, praying it wasn't one of Andy's stupid tricks—

Then everything that had happened the previous day came rushing back to her and she sat up quickly, earning herself a head rush.

Spots dancing in front of her eyes, she looked over at her bedside table. Her wand lay there, along with her watch. She reached over to grab the watch and sighed when she saw it was only seven-thirty. Another half hour before they had to get up.

But that didn't mean _she_ wasn't allowed to get up: she was a Prefect, wasn't she? She could go on her very first patrol… _without_ Tom Riddle. Perhaps it would be a distraction from the racing thoughts that were sure to plague her if she tried to go back to sleep.

Invigorated by this thought, she hopped out of bed and, rummaging through her suitcase, pulled on the forties' Hogwarts Slytherin uniform: a ruffled skirt with a pair of knee-high socks and polished black shoes, paired with a jumper emblazoned with a snake.

When she was finished dressing, Danielle pulled back her green hangings and peered around the dormitory. None of the other girls looked like they were about to wake up anytime soon, so Danielle grabbed her wand and fastened her watch before creeping out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

The Slytherin common room was deserted except for the few dying embers in the fireplace. Most of the furniture was still overturned from the spider attack the night before.

A grin broke out over Danielle's face, remembering Olive. She leapt over a chair and pushed open the doorway, thinking of how pathetic and feeble Olive Hornby was. And her attempts to flirt with Tom Riddle were just…sad. _I could do so much better,_ Danielle thought, then stopped dead halfway up the stairs, realizing what she had just thought. Did she seriously just think about flirting with Riddle? Was she crazy? Time-travel did that to someone, probably. Yes, that had to be it. She'd never flirted with anybody before in her life.

Shaking her head, Danielle ran up the rest of the steps to the Entrance Hall. She immediately felt a sense of relief when she saw sunlight streaming in through the windows. She'd felt like she was in a cave the entire time she was in the Slytherin common room. That was probably the point, though.

"Excuse me!" a voice called. Danielle whirled around to see a Ravenclaw walking briskly towards her. "You're not allowed to be out at this hour," the girl said. "It's only—oh." She'd spotted the Prefect badge on Danielle's robes.

"I'm Clara Ashford," Danielle introduced herself.

"Yes, you're the one that just moved," the Ravenclaw, who was also a Prefect, said briskly. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Adela Patil." She didn't sound very welcoming, however.

Danielle briefly wondered at the cause for the girl's hostility and came to the conclusion that it was because she was a Slytherin. They weren't held very high in the rest of the school's esteem.

Patil was about to leave, then seemingly remembered something. "Tom Riddle is already in the Prefects' common room," she informed Danielle. "Just so you know."

"Er, thanks," Danielle said, watching the girl leave. So much for her brilliant idea. Riddle was up before her. She growled out loud. Perfect Prefect Riddle. It was _so_ unfair.

The scowl stayed on Danielle's face all the way she stalked to the Prefect common room. How was he so bloody perfect at everything? She was going to lose her unspoken bet with Alyssa if this kept up.

Riddle was sitting in the armchair he had been using last night, reading a textbook. He looked up when she came in. "Good morning, Miss Ashford," he said easily. "How was your first night at Hogwarts?"

"Fine," Danielle hissed, not bothering to put on her idiotic facade. Merlin, why did he have to look so damn _perfect?_

Riddle put his book down, a look of innocent concern on his face. "Is anything wrong, Miss Ashford?" he asked politely.

_Yes! Yes, something_ is _wrong. You being so…bloody …wonderful!_ Danielle's face twisted, and for a second she wanted to slap him.

Then, with a great effort, she wiped her face blank of anger and smiled. "No, nothing's wrong, Tom," she purred.

He looked bewildered for a split second, then his face went empty of all emotion, just like she had done.

"I'm glad to hear that," Riddle said, shutting his book with a _snap_ and standing up. "Have you finished your patrol yet?"

"Yes," Danielle said. Riddle's eyes met hers, and she was momentarily taken aback by his intense gaze. It was as if he could see right down to her very soul, and he knew all of her secrets—

It felt almost like he was using Legilimency. But that was impossible…

Riddle finally tore his eyes away from her and instead turned his piercing gaze onto the clock atop the mantle. "It is nearly eight o'clock," he said. "We should get down to the Great Hall."

Danielle nodded once and left the room, feeling a strange urge to shudder.

* * *

Tom Riddle watched her go, musing silently to himself. The Ashford girl was certainly…different. And Tom Riddle didn't like different, unless it involved himself. He would have to do something about her. _But not yet,_ he thought. _First I have to find out more about her._

He wasn't fool enough to fall for her stories—Dutch girl, indeed! For one, she didn't have an accent. This might easily be explained by the fact that she'd moved to Britain when she was very young, but still…two Dutch parents and it was highly unlikely that she wouldn't have any trace of an accent. The second point was that _Ashford_ wasn't a Dutch name. She had said that her father was Dutch, but with a name like Ashford he seriously doubted that.

It was also strange that her parents hadn't sent her to Hogwarts, instead home-schooling her. Tom's lip curled as he considered the possibility that perhaps her parents were the kind of people that couldn't bear to see their precious baby torn away from them for any period of time. _Fools,_ he sneered. _In the end, only death could tear them apart. How delightfully poetic._

That brought him to his third point. Ashford hadn't seemed at all bothered by talking about their deaths; in fact, she had acted like it wasn't a serious issue. That was suspicious. Even though it had been seven months, one would think that she would still be grieving.

He would have to pressure her for more details about that and carefully monitor her reactions. That shouldn't be difficult: they were both Prefects. No doubt they would have plenty of time alone together. _Dumbledore_ —he hated even thinking the name—was a fool to pick her for a Prefect: she was no better than that air-headed twit Hornby. They were made of the same mold, which, unfortunately, most of the world was also made of. _But_ , Tom reminded himself, _perhaps she isn't as shallow as she leads people to believe_. He remembered the first time he had seen her with Dippet: she had been uncaring; sarcastic, almost, when he first spoke with her. He even recalled her rolling her eyes once or twice. It was only after Dippet had mentioned them working together that she had turned into that…that…repulsive specimen.

Tom gripped the back of his chair with long, pale fingers as something occurred to him. Could the girl possibly be smarter than he gave her credit for? Could she possibly be acting? Trying to play the fool and pretend she was nothing more than a mindless prat so she could manipulate things her own way, as Tom himself was doing? Although he wouldn't exactly say that he was "playing the fool." He wasn't top of every class for nothing.

He recalled the spider fiasco last night. Ashford had said she didn't do it, but Tom didn't believe her. A good actress she might be, but a good liar she was not. He had seen the truth in her eyes; but _why_ had she conjured the spiders? To infuriate Hornby and get her own way so she could have her bed back?

And the absolutely livid way she had acted this morning when she had stormed into the common room. Tom had seen the way she looked at him: she looked like she wanted to kill him. He had only seen one other person in his entire life with that look, and that person was himself. There was a deeper undercurrent to her anger, something that was the product of something else entirely.

But if all this was true, _if_ Ashford was acting, she was a force to be reckoned with. No match for himself, though. It would just prove she was stronger than the rest of the pathetic school. Perhaps, if Tom got her on his side, Ashford would prove to be a valuable asset…

And Tom would persuade her to tell the truth. He could be very charming when he wanted to. One flirtatious look, and Ashford would spill all her secrets, just like every other girl did when Tom Riddle smiled at them.

No, Clara Ashford was no match for him. She was just a weak little girl with better acting skills than most others. Easily manipulated, but still she could be strong, if her force was turned on someone else.

Twirling his wand absent-mindedly with his fingers, Tom considered his options. He would observe her for a couple of days so he could get a handle on her behaviour. See how well she performed in lessons…For there was no doubt in Tom's mind now that she was acting. He was the only one who could see it.

"Clara Ashford," Tom Riddle whispered, and for a split second his eyes glowed red, "You are _mine_."


	7. Suspicions

Danielle made her way back down to the Great Hall, meeting up with Dylan and Alyssa on the stairs leading up from the dungeons. Alyssa looked relieved as soon as she saw Danielle. "Clara!" she called. "Where were you?"

"Patrolling," Danielle answered calmly. "I woke up early."

"With Riddle?" Dylan asked curiously. "He was already gone when I got up."

"Yep," said Danielle as they walked into the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin table.

"Ooh!" Alyssa giggled. Danielle gave her a withering look.

"Alyssa," she began. "I do not, nor will I ever like Tom Riddle. He's a stuck-up, attention-seeking prat who sweet-talks everyone and manipulates people into getting his own way."

"What a colourful description," Alyssa said, grabbing an apple. "But methinks someone is jealous."

"J—I am _not_ jealous!" Danielle said, perhaps a little bit too firmly because Alyssa gave her a knowing smile.

"Tell me, Clara, you pride yourself on being smart, don't you?" she asked. When Danielle didn't answer, she nodded. "Yes, you do. And when you realized you might have competition with Riddle, you immediately hated him. Which is completely understandable but irrational."

Danielle glowered at the tabletop instead of Alyssa. The thing that bothered her the most was that her new friend was _right._ Her hatred of Riddle was spawned by jealousy and the way all of the teachers loved him. She was so used to having teachers say that about _her,_ that she was their best student. It was a great injury to Danielle's pride that someone might actually be more intelligent than her. Besides, everything about Riddle drew her in. She knew that she would begin to develop a pointless crush on him if he continued to act the way he did, and that was ridiculous. The _last_ thing she should be doing was becoming infatuated with a boy who was old enough to be her grandfather. She needed to find something about him to dislike.

_But I'll prove them all wrong,_ she thought suddenly. _I'll prove I'm smarter than Riddle. He'll be in all my classes anyway—_ But that train of thought was interrupted when she remembered the ditzy girl she was playing. How would it seem if she played dumb and then got top marks in every class? That would certainly ring some alarm bells.

She just couldn't win, could she?

"Clara?" Dylan asked. "Are you going to eat that omelette or just glare at it?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Danielle grinned apologetically at him and pushed the plate away. "Sorry, Dylan. I'm just not hungry, I guess."

"Well, can I have it instead?" he asked, staring hungrily at it.

Danielle laughed. "Sure."

At that moment, dozens of owls came swooping down into the Great Hall with the post, circling around the room and locating their owners.

A large barn owl landed in front of Dylan. He untied a roll of paper from the bird's leg and gave it a small piece of toast before it took off again. Danielle saw the familiar insignia of the _Daily Prophet_ as Dylan unfolded it.

" _Ten more Muggles killed in Germany as Grindelwald gains power,"_ Alyssa read over Dylan's shoulder. "That doesn't sound good."

Grindelwald? Danielle had only read about the legendary Dark wizard in textbooks…wasn't he supposed to be dead now? She frowned, then a look of realization dawned over her face as the answer came to her. Of course! Dumbledore didn't defeat him until 1945. There was a wizarding war as well as a Muggle war in the 1940's. She dimly recalled a History of Magic lesson in her fourth year…

" _Miss Bailey," Professor Binns called out to the sleeping class, "What were the correlations between the wizarding war and the Muggle war in the early nineteen-forties?"_

_Danielle blinked sleepily as she struggled to remember what Binns had been teaching. "Er…many wizards believe that Grindelwald was behind Hitler and was using him as another device to kill Muggles and also…Grindelwald and his forces could safely kill many people and blame it on the Muggle war?"_

_"Correct, Miss Bailey," Binns said. Danielle breathed a sigh of relief and let her head slump back onto the desk._

" _Now, with the knowledge that the magical world and the Muggle world were both in turmoil at the time, do you think wizards and Muggles found a way to help each other through this difficult time without realizing it? Was the demise of Hitler a key point in getting rid of Grindelwald? I want you to write a thirty-inch essay on this topic, due Thursday…"_

The memory ended there, probably because Danielle had fallen asleep again. She blinked rapidly, trying to bring herself back to the present…or past.

"Clara?" Alyssa asked, snapping her fingers in front of her face. "Did you hear me? I asked if you were scared."

"Scared?" Danielle asked blankly. "Why would I be scared?"

"Because of Grindelwald," Alyssa said. "Aren't you afraid he's going to invade Britain? He's already started on the rest of Europe."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess," Danielle said. The truth was, Grindelwald _would_ invade Britain and there would be a brief time of fighting. But that wouldn't be until June or July 1945, and Danielle would be long gone by then. Dumbledore would have the Time-Turner fixed in February at the very latest.

"I'm sorry!" Alyssa squealed, clapping her hands over her mouth. Danielle looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"You must have so many family and friends in Holland that are under Grindelwald's reign!" Alyssa said. "I'm so sorry for bringing it up!"

Danielle blinked. "It's okay. Most of my family is—er—already dead."

"I know but I'm still so—" Alyssa gave Danielle an awkward sideways hug.

"Stop it, Lyssa. You're making it worse." Dylan said out of the corner of his mouth.

"I am?" Alyssa asked, releasing Danielle. "But I was—"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Never mind." He let his breath out in one long sigh.

"So, what class do we have first?" Danielle asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Transfiguration with Professor Dumbledore," Alyssa said at once. "Most of the Slytherins hate him, but I don't. He's really nice."

"And weird," Dylan muttered. "He says so many things that don't make sense. When you try to have a conversation with him, he just keeps on asking _you_ things that don't even relate to the conversation, until you stomp away with ten more questions."

Danielle laughed.

"You know what? I heard he's queer," Alyssa said in a carrying whisper.

Danielle _knew_ he was, but she kept her mouth shut as she glanced nervously up at the staff table. Dumbledore sat at the end, closest to the Slytherin table. He caught Danielle's eye and a smile appeared on his face. Danielle could imagine his light blue eyes twinkling. Blushing, she looked away, praying he hadn't heard their conversation.

"Yeah," Dylan was saying. "Alphard told me…"

They continued speculating, but Danielle wasn't listening. Her eyes were fixed on a tall, dark figure who had just entered the Great Hall.

Tom Riddle strode over to the Slytherin table and sat down between Abraxas Malfoy and Walburga Black. Danielle noticed how they shifted aside to make room for him, as though he had silently commanded them to.

Riddle said something in a low voice to Malfoy—Danielle could see his lips moving—and then turned his head and looked straight at her.

She sucked in a quick gasp of air and turned back to Alyssa and Dylan, pretending she was talking to them.

"You know, Professor Dumbledore was—is—in love with Grindelwald," she said, acting as if she was enraptured by their conversation.

Both Alyssa and Dylan gave her funny looks. "Um, Dumbledore and Grindelwald are _enemies,_ Clara," Dylan said gently, as if talking to a small child. "They've been trying to kill each other for decades."

Danielle blinked. How on earth was she supposed to explain that they'd been best friends when they were younger? "Er, right. I just heard someone saying it in the hallway," she finished lamely.

"They must have had one too many bottles of Firewhisky," Alyssa said, shrugging, and then resumed her conversation with Dylan. Danielle felt her cheeks burn as she realized they had changed the subject long ago.

She cast a sideways glance down the Slytherin table, feeling her heart skip a beat as she realized Riddle was still staring at her. As she watched, he caught her eye again and a corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

Danielle hurriedly looked away again, inwardly smacking herself. She'd just been caught staring at him twice in a row! She would have to be more careful if she wanted to let his guard down. Now he probably thought she fancied him.

Ugh. Danielle stabbed at a sausage with her fork and shuddered. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Then she wondered who he was, really. Who had he become in the future? Why did his name sound so familiar?

Danielle racked her brains for the name Tom Riddle. But no; she couldn't think of anything. Maybe he had left the country, or just become another random wizard that her parents had mentioned. That was the most likely story.

Or…what if he had died long before she was born? That idea didn't seem so far off either. Danielle looked over at Alyssa and Dylan—what if they had died too? Or were they still living in 2011?

There were too many mysteries here. As she ate, Danielle made a pact to ask around once she got back to her own time to find out who these people became. Someone had to have heard of them. Maybe they were the grandparents, or even parents, of people she knew.

Maybe they became famous.

Who knew?

* * *

Half an hour later, Danielle was standing outside of the Transfiguration classroom with the rest of the fifth-year Slytherins, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. Danielle had heard from many people, both in this time and the future, that he was an excellent teacher. From what she had seen of him, she didn't doubt that.

They had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Danielle watched them cast furtive glances toward the Slytherins, as if they would hex them at any moment. This surprised Danielle, who was used to all the Houses getting along. Hmm. There seemed to be a lot of inter-House rivalry in this time. _I wonder why_ _?_ Danielle mused. There were so many questions she had, but unfortunately couldn't ask.

"Good morning, class," Professor Dumbledore said, striding up to the group of students. "I trust you all had a good summer?" He pointed his wand at the door to the classroom and it swung open.

There were murmurs of "Yes, Professor Dumbledore," from the Hufflepuffs. None of the Slytherins spoke.

Danielle followed Alyssa's bobbing red hair into the Transfiguration classroom, which looked almost exactly as it did in her time, right down to the strange symbols on the chalkboard and the animals hopping around in their cages.

She made to sit down beside Alyssa, but stopped when she saw Dylan had already claimed that seat. In fact, all of the Slytherins were sitting down beside someone…Alyssa and Dylan, Olive Hornby with Angela Greengrass, Walburga Black with Orion, and Abraxas Malfoy with Alphard Black. The Hufflepuffs were all sitting together, too.

A terrible suspicion was beginning to form in Danielle's mind. The only empty seat left in class happened to be right beside none other than…Tom Riddle.

"Ah, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said thoughtfully as he swept up to the front of the class. "Why don't you have a seat next to Mr Riddle?"

"Yes, Professor," Danielle mumbled. The entire class stared at her as she walked up the aisle and collapsed into the chair next to Riddle's. He moved his books to make room for her, but Danielle didn't look at him.

Dumbledore began talking about what they would study for their O.W.L. year, but Danielle found it hard to concentrate. Beside her, Riddle was writing down everything Dumbledore was saying with long, elegant strokes. Out of the corner of her eye, Danielle watched his pale hand moving across the page. Something about it hypnotized her. It was almost as if she couldn't look away.

_He has long fingers,_ she thought, almost like a pianist's. The blue veins stood out as he wrote.

For a split second, Danielle wondered what it would feel like if he were to stroke her face—

_NO, NO!_ her mind screamed at her. _Why were you thinking that?_

Ashamed, Danielle slid down in her seat, finally tearing her eyes off of Riddle, but not soon enough to get a glimpse of his writing, which could have passed for calligraphy: it was sophisticated and _perfect,_ like the rest of him. _Well, I guess I'm not surprised._ She grimaced, feeling her dislike of him rush back.

"Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked, and Danielle's eyes immediately snapped back to the front. "Yes, sir?"

"I asked if you think you could keep up with the O.W.L. work. Forgive me for asking, but have your parents taught you enough so that you can understand the curriculum this year?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her.

Danielle was about to say yes, but then she remembered her façade. "Er—I'm not sure, sir. They tried to teach me fifth-year work last year, but I didn't feel like learning it." She shrugged.

Alyssa snorted from the row of desks beside her. Danielle shot her a warning glance.

If Dumbledore was surprised, he didn't show it. "All right. Then if you have any problems with the work, Miss Ashford, come to me or any of your other teachers. We'd be more than happy to assist you."

"Thank you, sir," Danielle said brightly.

Dumbledore nodded and turned back to the rest of the class. Danielle concentrated on his lecture for a while, but it was mostly about how the O.W.L's would be conducted and where they would be writing the exam and blah, blah, blah.

Danielle would probably have to sit through this lecture or something like it once she got back to her own time, so what was the point of listening anyway?

As soon as she thought that, she was immediately shocked at herself. Danielle Bailey, saying that listening to teachers _wasn't important_ _?_ She never would have believed it.

Had being in the past—albeit for only a day—changed her?

She sat up straight in her seat as she realized that yes, she had. In her own time, she _never_ would have pretended to be a whiny brat, no matter what the reasons. She never would have purposely set spiders on anyone, no matter how much she hated them. And she would most definitely not manipulate people and pretend to be their friend. This didn't sound like her at all.

_That's why the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin, then,_ said a little voice in her head. _Dumbledore was right. You_ are _a different person here than in 2011._

But why? Had time-travel messed with her head? Did everyone who went back in time change?

She'd have to ask Dumbledore as soon as possible. Right after the lesson.

Cheered by this thought, Danielle grabbed her quill lying on the side of the desk and pulled the piece of parchment toward her. She would take notes, like Positively Perfect Prefect Riddle was doing, and prove she was just as capable as him of doing the work. Nobody would suspect anything if she decided to take notes.

Danielle's quill poised over the paper, and her eyes darted sideways to sneak a peek at what Riddle had written:

_The first Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards was Pierre Bonaccord. His aptitude for Transfiguration was surprising to the head wizards. However, he never got to attend his very first meeting in France because of the Gobin Rebellions of Liechtenstein…_

_Stupid Riddle with his stupid faultless handwriting_ , Danielle thought mutinously as she copied down what he had written in her own chicken scrawl:

**The first Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards was Pierre Bonaccord. His aptitude for Transfiguration was**

Danielle stopped writing as she noticed Riddle was looking over at her paper. She felt her cheeks burn as Riddle's eyes scanned the words.

He looked up at her, arching one eyebrow. Danielle gave a tiny shrug.

Riddle's eyes burned into hers for one more second before he turned back to his paper, nonchalantly shielding it with his arm. This didn't escape the notice of Danielle, who let a smirk cross her face as she turned back to the front of the class.

The remainder of the lesson went by with only one more incident: when Dumbledore asked which member of the four founders had been skilled in Transfiguration.

"Godric Gryffindor," Danielle said without thinking. She realized her mistake too late, and nearly clapped her hands over her mouth.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "That is correct, Miss Ashford. Five points to Slytherin."

Danielle felt Riddle's intense gaze on her, but she didn't look at him. She would have to be more careful from then on—how on earth was she supposed to explain how she knew that?

When the bell rang, Danielle instantly bolted out of her seat before Riddle could even gather up his books. She hurried out of the classroom and strode as fast as she could across the Transfiguration courtyard without running, hoping Riddle wouldn't catch up to her. She knew exactly what he would ask.

Unfortunately, she'd forgotten all about her promise to ask Dumbledore about her apparent personality change. Oh well. She could always ask him tomorrow.

"Clara!" two voices called out from behind her. Danielle didn't react, but then when the voices yelled again she remembered her new name and turned around. Alyssa and Dylan were jogging towards her.

"Merlin, Clara, what made you run out so fast?" Dylan asked, running a hand through his hair. "It was like Riddle'd set you on fire or something."

Danielle smiled and shook her head. "He was giving me creepy glances all through class. I had to get away from him," she lied.

"Oh." Alyssa said as they began to walk again. "Well, that's unfortunate. You'll probably have to sit next to him for most or all of your classes. No one sits beside him, for some reason." She shrugged, as if this wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.

"Gee, I wonder why," Danielle said. Alyssa didn't seem to notice the sarcasm.

"We have Herbology next with the Gryffindors," Dylan said as they pushed open a door and entered the greenhouses.

"Hey, what classes are you taking?" Alyssa asked. "And how did you know the way here?"

Danielle cringed. "Er, I got here early yesterday and Dippet took me on a tour of the school. I have a photographic memory." _That sounded really lame…_

But Alyssa believed her. "I wish I was like that—I almost never showed up in classes first year, I always got lost."

"You still get lost sometimes," Dylan pointed out.

"True."

The rest of the fifth-year Slytherins began to file into the humid, muggy greenhouse. Riddle came in just before the bell rang. Danielle purposely avoided looking at him; she knew he was staring at her.

Luckily, the greenhouse didn't have desks to sit down at, so Danielle could squeeze in between Dylan and Alyssa without having to avoid awkward conversation.

About halfway through the lesson, when they were plucking Venomous Tentacula roots, Alyssa giggled manically in Danielle's ear. "Tom's looking at you," she whispered.

Danielle didn't take her eyes off of the plant. "That's nice," she mumbled.

"He's frowning. It looks like he's trying to read your mind or something." Alyssa's eyes darted furtively around the greenhouse.

_Uh-oh._ Danielle mustered all her powers of Occlumency and fought to build her mental barriers. Dumbledore had been right about Tom Riddle, she decided. He was not what he seemed.

She tried her hardest to keep her thoughts on her work while still keeping her mind closed. This was much more difficult than it sounded.

And then, to her horror, her head began to pound. Danielle kept her eyes on the table, but inside she was terrified. Her _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ textbook had said the surefire way to see if someone was trying to invade your mind was to see if you had a headache or not. _If you do, and it feels like someone is stabbing your brain with a knife, then chances are someone is using Legilimency against you_ , the passage had said.

Well, it certainly _felt_ like she was being stabbed. Remembering that eye contact was fundamental to Legilimency, Danielle now had even _more_ reason not to look at Riddle. Perhaps he'd stop if she kept very still…

All of a sudden, the pain stopped and Danielle felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of her. She stayed tense, though. It could be a trick. "Alyssa…" she said out of the corner of her mouth. "What is Riddle doing?"

There was a pause. "He's not looking at you anymore," Alyssa said. "He's doing his own work."

Danielle carefully let her guard down. She felt no foreign presence in her mind, so she assumed Riddle must have stopped using Legilimency.

Cautiously, her gaze flickered over to him. His head was down and he was bent over his plant. Danielle felt herself shaking as she tried to relax.

"You okay, Clara?" Dylan asked. "You look sick. Maybe you should go to the hospital wing."

"No, I'm fine," Danielle said, even though her hands were shaking.

Tom Riddle knew Legilimency. How was this possible? He'd said he lived at a Muggle orphanage, so how could they have possibly taught him?

Something about him unnerved her. Something about him unconsciously told Danielle to stay away from him.

She was sure of one thing now: whatever was going on with Tom Riddle was none of her business, and she had the sinking feeling that she was getting in way over her head.

* * *

"Clara…Clara… _Clara Ashford_ _!_ " The voice snapped Danielle back to attention and she looked up from her dinner. Alyssa was staring at her, looking rather annoyed.

"What is it?" Danielle asked.

"I've been calling your name for the past five minutes and you haven't even looked up! It was like you were in a trance or something!" Alyssa angrily tucked a strand of carroty hair behind her ear.

Danielle shook her head, trying to clear it. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

The day had gone by fairly quickly. Riddle, surprisingly, hadn't spoken to Danielle or used Legilimency on her again. Even though they'd had to sit beside each other in their other classes (except for Muggle Studies, which Riddle didn't take), he hadn't spoken to her. It was all very…strange.

"About what?" Alyssa was asking. Danielle lapsed out of her thoughts again and blinked at her.

"Erm…Prefect duty tonight." It was true. Danielle was trying to think of ways to get out of it and not have to face Riddle. So far, all she had was telling him she felt too weak to walk around.

Yeah, because that would really work.

"Why are you nervous?" Dylan asked quietly.

"I—I don't know. I don't trust Riddle. Something about him unnerves me," Danielle admitted.

Dylan looked at her thoughtfully. "I know. He's quiet and gets perfect grades; and he's also nice to everyone, even the Gryffindors and the Muggle-borns."

"He's a nice person!" Alyssa argued.

But Dylan shook his head. "No, Lyssa. I know what Clara means. There's something about Riddle that's just not quite…right. He's _too_ nice, almost. Do you get my meaning?"

"No," said Alyssa, but Danielle agreed with Dylan. Alyssa was too blinded by her enormous crush on Riddle. She didn't see him clearly, just as the rest of the school didn't. Well, with the exception of Professor Dumbledore, perhaps.

"I'm scared of him," Danielle admitted, lacing her fingers together. "When I…when I was acting like that air-headed idiot, there were a few times when he just looked at me…and it seemed like he wanted to…to kill me." There was no other word for the dangerous flash in Riddle's eyes.

Alyssa scoffed. "You're just paranoid. Why would Tom want to kill you, or anybody? He's a gentleman!"

"Also," said Danielle, ignoring Alyssa, "When I first came here yesterday, Professor Dumbledore told me to be careful of Riddle. He said… _Tom Riddle is not what he seems."_

There was a shocked silence from her two friends. Dylan stared at Danielle. Even Alyssa wasn't arguing.

"Professor Dumbledore told you that?" Dylan asked. "That's weird. I mean, I know he doesn't seem to like Riddle as much as the other teachers, but…" He trailed off.

"He doesn't?" Danielle asked.

"No. It's bizarre," Alyssa said. "Even though Tom's never done anything to Dumbledore."

"Maybe Riddle _did_ do something," Danielle mused. "And now Dumbledore doesn't trust him…"

"What could he have done, though?" Alyssa asked. Danielle could tell by her skeptical tone that she still didn't believe her.

Danielle shrugged. "I don't know." She sat up straighter. "But I'm going to find out."


	8. Moaning Myrtle

In a complete turnaround from her earlier thoughts and refreshed from her conversation with Alyssa and Dylan, Danielle decided to indeed go to Prefect duty. She might be able to worm some information out of Riddle—all she needed was patience and perhaps a few flirtatious looks. Now, Danielle was the last person in the world one should look to for advice on flirting, but hey, Riddle was a teenage boy. He had hormones, just like everyone else…right?

Danielle adjusted her Prefect badge and flipped her curls back over her shoulder, trying to look nonchalant. It was almost nine o'clock and she was supposed to be meeting Riddle here in the Entrance Hall soon. Danielle knew it would be sooner rather than later, since she already had Riddle pegged for the type of person that never showed up to anything late.

And Danielle wasn't to be disappointed. Just as the clock chimed nine, Riddle came hurrying up the dungeon staircase. He carried a thick book under his arm, but Danielle unfortunately didn't get a chance to see its title. He looked mildly surprised to see her already there.

"Here so soon, Miss Ashford?" Riddle asked smoothly. "I must say, I am astonished. I was under the impression that you were not too eager to step up to your duties as Prefect."

Danielle blinked. "Really? How could you think that?"

"You seemed much too keen to give your badge away to Miss Hornby last night, and you did not appear to be in the best of moods this morning." Riddle began walking up the Grand Staircase. Danielle jogged after him.

"I'm not a morning person, Tom. I'm a real night owl." She fluttered her eyelashes up at him, trying to look like Olive Hornby. _Ugh…what a revolting thought._

Riddle didn't even look down at her. "What a coincidence. So am I," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

A smile pulled at the corner of Danielle's lips. "That's one _more_ thing we have in common, then! Don't you agree that we're so much alike?"

This time, a flash of amusement crossed Riddle's face before he replied. "Perhaps."

There was a beat of silence before Danielle said, "Tom, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"…No."

Danielle's forehead creased. "Why not?"

Riddle kept his gaze focused on the stairs in front of him. "I was never…interested in that sort of thing."

_Does that mean what I think it means? Maybe he_ is _queer after all!_ Danielle began to shake with silent laughter.

Riddle glanced down at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Danielle managed to choke out, biting her lip hard to keep from giggling.

"The fact that I am not interested in girls is funny to you?" Riddle asked, staring intently at her.

Danielle couldn't hold it back any longer. She burst out laughing, having to grab on to the staircase for support. Her entire body shook with mirth.

Riddle seemed to realize what he'd said. "I am not…" he began, before starting another sentence. "You misunderstood me."

For some reason, this only made Danielle laugh harder. It felt good; she hadn't laughed at all since she'd come to the past.

Riddle stood impassively, waiting for her to finish. His expression and posture made it clear he thought she was immature, but at the moment Danielle didn't really care.

Finally she stopped, her ribs sore and her cheeks wet with tears. She felt the same way she did after she'd had a good cry: refreshed and rejuvenated. It was funny how similar two extremely opposite gestures—crying and laughing—could make someone feel.

Riddle crossed his arms and leaned against the staircase railing, looking very much like an impassive god. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

"Sorry," Danielle finally choked out, wiping her face.

He cocked an eyebrow, still not speaking.

"Okay—stop looking at me like that." This was getting creepy.

Five seconds passed before he turned away, and continued up the stairs. Danielle breathed a sigh of relief. "Now _that_ juvenile conversation is over, are there any other aspects of my life you would like to question me about?" Riddle asked dryly.

"Yeah. Prove you're not queer, Tom. Go out with me." The words left Danielle's lips before she had fully bidden them to, shocking both her and Riddle.

He actually stopped, twisting his head around to look at her. His face was smooth; unreadable. Danielle held her breath; a part of her hoping he would say yes and not make her look like a complete fool, the other hoping he would say no, for obvious reasons.

Riddle stared at her for one long moment, lips slightly parted. Danielle ached to know what he was thinking. Then, with an ever so subtle movement of the head, he nodded.

Before Danielle could react, he had turned around again and swept up the stairs.

"Wait!" she called, following after him. "That was a yes, right?"

"I nodded my head up and down once; therefore, that would be characterized as an assent. Unless you know some foreign sign language I do not," he said quietly. Danielle couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or serious. Probably the former, she decided.

"So you'll go out with me?" she asked.

"For Merlin's sake, Ashford, do you need it in writing? _Yes_ ," Riddle snapped. A flash of irritation crossed his perfect face.

Danielle's eyebrows raised.

"I merely said," Riddle continued in a lower voice, "I would be… _willing_ …to go with you to Hogsmeade." His teeth were clenched together.

"That's not until next month!" Danielle said in relief.

Now it was Riddle's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, that's not until next month," Danielle said, doing her best to sound disappointed.

"I believe October the third is the first Hogsmeade weekend," Riddle said, his gaze lingering on her for a second longer.

Danielle nodded and they continued climbing the stairs. _Damn, what have I done? Does he expect me to hold his hand or something? But whatever. This will all be worth it for the look on Olive Hornby's face when she hears it! And Alyssa's too, for that matter._

So deep in her thoughts was Danielle that she hardly noticed when Riddle started speaking again.

"Miss Ashford! Are you even listening to me?" Riddle asked, somehow still managing to sound charming.

Danielle jerked out of her thoughts. "Er, yeah. What were you saying?"

If Riddle had been a lesser person, he would have rolled his eyes. Be as it may, however, he was much too mature and dignified to stoop to this level (at least in _his_ opinion) so he settled for pursing his lips. "You patrol the second floor and I will take the third. That is, if you are not afraid to be alone at night." He stated it coldly, without a trace of humor or sarcasm in his tone. It was as if he _expected_ her to be afraid.

Danielle's chin raised a fraction. "I'm not scared," she said defiantly. "Will _you_ be?"

Something in Riddle's face twitched, as if in surprise. He definitely hadn't expected Danielle to ask him that.

"No, I will not be scared," he said curtly, pulling his wand out of his robes. "Come back here when you have finished patrolling." And then he was gone, swallowed by the shadows.

Danielle stared after him for a second, then shook her head quickly and slipped into the second-floor hallway.

It was completely dark here, with absolutely no movement or sound. Danielle licked her lips nervously, determined not to show any sign of fear. She _was_ scared of the dark—a bit, not much, though. Or so she told herself.

" _Lumos,_ " she whispered, and a bright light appeared at the tip of her wand, illuminating the hallway in front of her. She crept down it silently, looking for anything amiss.

A faint sound reached her ears. Danielle frowned and strained to hear. It was coming from somewhere just ahead of her.

As she got closer to the noise, Danielle realized that it was someone sobbing. Was it one of the ghosts? No, it couldn't be. Ghosts didn't cry.

The sobbing got louder and louder until Danielle paused at the door of a girls' bathroom. In fact, it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

_But not yet,_ Danielle reminded herself. _Now it's still an ordinary bathroom._

While she pondered, the weeping ceased from inside the bathroom, only to be replaced by a sort of pathetic sniffling sound.

Danielle checked to make sure no one was coming, and gently pushed the door open.

A young girl stood at one of the sinks, head bent and shaking all over. She looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old and was a Ravenclaw.

Danielle took another step inside the bathroom, trying not to startle the girl.

She had two black pigtails and large glasses. For some reason, she looked familiar, though Danielle was sure she'd never seen her in this time.

The girl let one last choked sob and turned around, letting out a little squeak of fear when she saw Danielle.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you," Danielle said quickly, before the girl would undoubtedly scream.

The Ravenclaw continued staring with wide eyes at Danielle. "I'm—I'm sorry! I know I'm not supposed to be here and it's too late! Please don't hurt me!" The girl actually cringed away, as if expecting a blow.

"Why would I—" Danielle began, then caught a glimpse of green. She was a Slytherin. _Oops._

"I'm not going to hurt you," Danielle said in a calm, soothing tone. She took another step toward the girl. "I might be a Slytherin, but I'm not cruel." _Except to Tom Riddle,_ she silently added.

"Wait," the girl said, relaxing a tiny bit. "You're that new transfer student, right?"

Danielle nodded. "Dan—Clara Ashford." She caught herself just in time.

"Danclara Ashford?" the girl asked.

"No—just Clara. Clara Ashford."

"Oh," said the girl. "I'm Myrtle Pratt." She continued to speak, but Danielle had frozen.

Myrtle Pratt. Ravenclaw. Pigtails and glasses. Second floor bathroom. This was _Moaning Myrtle!_

"Clara?" the future ghost asked in a small voice. "Why do you look so funny?"

"No reason," Danielle said in a slightly strangled tone. "Keep talking."

"Well," said Myrtle, "I came in here because that fifth-year Slytherin, Olive Hornby—do you know her?"

"Unfortunately," said Danielle, feeling she at least owed it to this girl to be honest.

Myrtle smiled timidly. "Olive followed me after dinner tonight and called me all sorts of horrible things." She sniffed.

"Like what?" Danielle asked sympathetically, going over to stand beside Myrtle. She didn't flinch this time.

"Mudblood and a whiny baby and a stupid Ravenclaw." Myrtle hiccupped.

Danielle's eyes narrowed. To be absolutely fair, two of those things were kind of true: Myrtle _was_ a whiny baby—in Danielle's experience—and Myrtle wasn't exactly the sharpest Ravenclaw in the castle…but a _Mudblood_ _?_ That was over the line.

"She…she's been calling me names since I arrived here, and she sometimes trips me and steals my books. She says I'll never graduate because I'm a…a worthless piece of filth." Myrtle began sobbing in earnest again. Danielle's heart went out to her.

"Don't cry," she begged, hesitantly wrapping an arm around the younger girl. "I'm a Prefect—I'll take care of Olive for you."

"You will?" Myrtle asked, looking up. Her round, chubby face was shiny with tears.

Danielle nodded. "Olive's a brat. Hey—" her face turned on a mischievous look, "Do you want to play a prank on her?"

"Yes! But…won't we get caught?"

"No. We'll just give Olive a taste of her own medicine," said Danielle. "How about it?"

Myrtle nodded enthusiastically. "What prank are we doing?"

"I don't know yet," Danielle admitted. "But I'll ask one of my friends for ideas and I'll tell you tomorrow, OK?"

"Yeah!" Myrtle said, sounding happy for the first time.

"But," Danielle lowered her voice conspicuously, "You can't tell anyone about this. It'll be just between you and me."

"Like a secret?" Myrtle asked, face shining.

Danielle nodded. "Exactly a secret."

Myrtle smiled. On most people, it looked nice to see them smile, but on Myrtle it just made her look like an overgrown seal. Danielle conveniently "forgot" to mention this to her…although it would probably sound nicer coming from her than Olive, who would no doubt comment on it someday.

"Does this mean we're friends?" Myrtle asked in wonder.

"Er—yeah." Being friends with an unpopular third-year was sure to lower the Slytherins' already negative opinions of her, but Danielle didn't really care at the moment.

Myrtle smiled even wider. "You're my first friend, you know. I've never had one before. Even my parents don't like me."

Danielle felt a surge of pity. Myrtle had been alone in life…and in death. No wonder she was sad.

Then a thought occurred to her: Was she changing the future in any way just by being kind to Myrtle, just like she was friends with Alyssa and Dylan?

After a minute of contemplation, Danielle had to disagree. Just being nice couldn't change the future in any way. She would have to do something really major. And even then things probably wouldn't change that much.

"Don't worry, Myrtle," Danielle abruptly said. "I like you. Just stick close by me and you'll be fine."

Myrtle nodded enthusiastically, hanging onto the Slytherin Prefect's every word. The trust and respect in her eyes made Danielle squirm. What would Myrtle do if she discovered Danielle wasn't the person she really thought she was?

"Hey," Danielle said, distracting herself from her depressing thoughts, "Want to see something cool?"

"Sure!" Myrtle stared at the older girl as if she were the most entertaining thing in the world.

_You gotta admit,_ Danielle thought as she pulled out her wand, _It_ is _kinda gratifying to have someone adore you. Maybe this is like what celebrities think of their fans?_

"Have you ever heard of the Patronus Charm, Myrtle?" she asked.

The young Ravenclaw shook her head.

"Well, it's a really powerful charm designed to drive Dementors and other creepy things away from you. All you have to do is think of a happy memory, and a spirit-like animal will appear to chase them away."

"Awesome!" said Myrtle. "Can I see?"

Danielle chuckled. "That's what I was going for." She closed her eyes and concentrated on her happy memory: that of her family smiling at her. " _Expecto Patronum!"_

Almost instantly, her silver fox shot out of her wand and stopped five feet from them, surveying the room. Once it had registered there was no danger, it flicked its tail happily and ran out of the room, fading into just a bright light in the distance.

"Wow!" said Myrtle, staring after it. Her dull brown eyes were alight with excitement.

Danielle couldn't help but smile proudly.

"Very impressive," a calm voice said from the doorway. Danielle and Myrtle both jumped.

Tom Riddle was standing there, leaning against the wall as if he had been there all along. There was an expression of slight amusement in his eyes.

"T—Tom!" Myrtle gasped, seeming about to faint.

Danielle blew a stray curl out of her face and took a step toward Riddle. She wished he was actually standing _inside_ the bathroom, so she could penalize him for it. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound polite.

"Why, looking for you, of course. I finished my round and, seeing as how you had not come back yet, wondered where you were. Then I heard voices coming out of the bathroom, and here you were." He gestured to them. Danielle wanted to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his face.

"I was just helping Myrtle here," she said, wrapping a protective arm around the girl. "She needed some comfort, and I was just the person to give it to her!" She smiled brightly, knowing she had to walk a fine line between Clara Ashford and Danielle Bailey every time she was with both Riddle and Myrtle. It was like Clara had become her alter ego, in a way.

"I see," said Riddle. It did seem like he saw— _too_ much. "But helping third-years is not really on our Prefect schedule, is it, Miss Ashford?"

"No," admitted Danielle. "But I heard Myrtle crying, and I _had_ to help!"

"Kindhearted of you," Riddle said.

"Clara's nice," said Myrtle, cheeks turning bright red as Riddle fixed his penetrating gaze on her. "She's almost as nice as you, Tom."

Guess Myrtle wasn't as averse to Slytherins as Danielle had thought.

Riddle smiled charmingly, making Myrtle sigh and sway on her feet. _Manipulative jerk._

"Is there a place you have to be, Miss Pratt?" he asked.

Myrtle blushed deeper. "I know, sorry. I'll go back to the Ravenclaw common room now." Ignoring Danielle, she shot a shy smile at Riddle before quickly running away as fast as her short little legs would carry her.

After she had left, there was a long silence. Danielle pointedly avoided looking at Riddle. She could picture his smirking face all too clearly, thanks.

"Shall we get back to duty?" Riddle finally asked. Thankful he wasn't going to press the matter any further, Danielle walked past him out of the bathroom. As she strode down the hall, she could sense him right behind her, walking more slowly. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"That was quite a remarkable Patronus," Riddle said lightly, after about five minutes of silence. "I was not aware fifth-years could produce one, much less previously home-schooled fifth-years."

His tone was quiet and musing, but there was something in his voice that carried a silent threat. _He suspected her._ Had he read more in Danielle's mind than she thought he had?

"It's one of the spells Daddy taught me," she said gaily. _What am I supposed to say? That Myrtle did it?_

"Interesting," Riddle said, voice almost part of the darkness. Danielle felt uneasy, having him this close to her.

To distract him, she quickly changed the topic. "Why did you say yes?"

"Yes to what?" There was a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

"Going out with me." They turned into another hallway which was, thankfully, lit.

"Did I?" Riddle asked. "I was under the impression that we were just going to Hogsmeade once next month."

"Sure, but why did you say yes in the first place?" Danielle made her voice sound as innocent as possible.

He appeared to choose his words carefully before continuing. "I feel that I should…thank you for being my fellow Prefect."

"You're welcome!" Danielle exclaimed, though she was sure he was lying. What a puzzle that boy was.

For the first time, Riddle turned his charming smile on her. Danielle hadn't been prepared for it, and so it caught her off guard. She blinked stupidly at him for a second before closing her mouth and trying to ignore the hollow feeling in her stomach. _Stupid, stupid girl,_ she scolded herself. _Almost falling for Riddle's act. What will happen before you realize you can't trust boys like him?_

The corners of Riddle's lips upturned slightly in a smirk, as if he knew what she was thinking. Danielle felt herself turn red, though there was no reason to.

_Ah well,_ she thought. _At least it kept me in character._


	9. Eavesdropping on Conspiracy

To Danielle's extreme surprise, September went by in the blink of an eye. She had expected her time in the past to drag on and on, but it seemed as if it was October before she knew it.

Her first month at 1940's Hogwarts had gone by as smoothly as could be hoped for. To be honest, there were those first few weeks where Danielle had had awful nightmares about never getting back to the present and seeing her family again. But those had eventually stopped after she had woken up screaming for the fifth time and Olive Hornby had yelled at her. The image of Olive at four o'clock in the morning without her makeup had been enough to render Danielle stoic for the rest of her life.

Classes were challenging and the only way Danielle could escape from reality for a few hours. She had ultimately decided playing dumb wouldn't get her anywhere and she soon rocketed to the top of all her classes, thus making her the second best in her year. The first, of course, was Tom Riddle. He didn't question her newfound intelligence, though, so Danielle figured she was safe for now.

Speaking of Tom Riddle, he seemed to grow more mysterious every day. Sometimes he was cool and indifferent; others he was warm and friendly. Danielle inspected him carefully, but could not find a trigger for these mood changes. And she had to admit, she was even sucked in by his charisma from time to time, no matter how much she told herself he was an idiot. Danielle had always prided herself on being a good judge of character, but Tom Riddle stumped them all. And this _really_ aggravated her.

No more had been said about their supposed "date" in Hogsmeade. Danielle wondered if he had forgotten about it, then she wondered why _she_ hadn't forgotten about it. They went about their Prefect duties normally, speaking only occasionally. Danielle was careful to act "Clara Ashford-y" around him at all times.

Another part of this era she strongly disliked was Olive Hornby. Bully of anyone younger and in a different House than herself, Olive had two goals in life: Torment Myrtle Pratt and get Tom Riddle. Unfortunately, the latter plan didn't seem to be working, which made Olive more snappish and irritating than usual.

But with Riddle, Olive and homesickness aside, life here was looking up. Danielle, Alyssa and Dylan soon became fast friends and nearly inseparable. (Except for the times the twins fought when Danielle wasn't there. She caught them more than once having a heated discussion and instantly stopping once she arrived.)

Myrtle was another unanticipated pro. Danielle had expected the third-year to follow her around like a lovesick puppy, but surprisingly Myrtle kept her distance and Danielle came to her rescue whenever she needed it. She also helped the Ravenclaw with her studies for an hour every Sunday.

Professor Dumbledore was another great help to have. It made Danielle feel better, knowing that the greatest wizard of the age was in the same castle as her. If anyone could fix the Time-Turner, it was him. (He'd also grown to be Danielle's favorite teacher out of _both_ times she'd been to Hogwarts.)

At the end of September, Dumbledore called Danielle down to his office. For a split second, Danielle thought it was because he had fixed the Time-Turner early and she could go back to 2011, but alas, when she stepped inside his office it was nowhere in sight.

"Good evening, my dear," Dumbledore said warmly as she looked nervously around his office. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Danielle nodded meekly and collapsed down into one of the chairs beside his desk. Her eyes fell on the tattered old Sorting Hat, sitting on the table, and she had a sudden idea.

"Professor," she asked before Dumbledore could speak, "Do you think I could try on the Sorting Hat one more time? Just to see what it says?"

The Transfiguration professor looked mildly surprised. "Of course, Miss Ashford, but you must realize it is too late to change your House now."

Danielle nodded. "I know, sir. I just wanted to ask it a few questions."

The familiar twinkle alighted in Dumbledore's eyes. "Certainly, then," he said. "We all have our questions about why the Sorting Hat placed us where." As he spoke, he plucked the Hat from its resting place and handed it to Danielle. With some trepidation, she placed it on her head for the third time in her life.

_Ah—back again, I see,_ the Hat said. _You are wondering why I put you in Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw._

_Yes,_ Danielle thought.

The Hat was silent for a few moments, then, _Well, I think you know the answer yourself already._

_Funny. You'd think if I knew the answer already I wouldn't have come to you._ Danielle couldn't help the sarcastic edge to her thoughts.

_I'll prompt you, then._ She could almost hear the Hat's deep breath. _Two words._

_Yes?_

_Clara. Ashford._ And then it was silent.

_What—_ Danielle sent volumes of verbal abuse at it, but the Sorting Hat appeared to be "asleep."

She ripped the frayed hat off of her head, staring daggers at its brim.

"I take it that didn't bode well?" Dumbledore asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not at all," Danielle growled. She half-hoped for Dumbledore to ask what had happened, but he instead silently put the Hat back and sat down in his chair, surveying Danielle over the tips of his fingers.

"You seem to be faring quite well, Miss Ashford," the professor said evenly. "I must say, I admire you. I'm not sure I would have done nearly as well if I was in your position."

"Thanks," said Danielle, though she knew he was just flattering her.

"You seem to be quite close to Mr MacDougal," Dumbledore said, out of the blue.

"He's my friend, sir. So is Alyssa. Don't worry—" Danielle said hurriedly, "I haven't gotten too close to them." This was a lie, but if it meant going back to the present…

"Oh, that's not what I meant," he said serenely. "Simple friendship is probably one of the most valuable things on earth. No, what I mean is romantic inclinations."

Danielle could only stare at him for a second. "Dylan, er, Mr MacDougal and I are just friends, sir. I don't have any _romantic inclinations_ toward him—or anyone."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm not preventing you from any relationships, Miss Ashford. I just don't want you to get too close to anyone, or even fall in love. Think of what would happen! You wouldn't want to go back to the future when the time arrived."

"I suppose you're right, sir. But everything's fine. I'm not going to fall in love with anyone." Danielle didn't feel it wise to add " _Why would I_ want _to fall in love with anyone here?"_

Dumbledore's face turned grave. "I know you must think me a silly man, asking you for such foolish demands as this. But I believe it would be best for everyone concerned if you didn't. Time travel is a very delicate thing, Miss Ashford. Every minute you spend here is dangerous."

Danielle nodded. _Thanks for that uplifting talk._

"But on a happier note, I have made progress in finishing your Time-Turner." Dumbledore reached into the pocket of his midnight-blue robes and pulled out the dastardly object that had gotten Danielle into this whole mess in the first place.

"If you don't mind me asking, Professor, what exactly happened to make it break?" Danielle asked.

"Ah, on the contrary, I'm _glad_ you asked me that." Dumbledore stared at the golden hour-glass. "You see, when you turned the knob all the way back, it broke the springs inside. Normally, anyone could just fix this with a simple Reparo spell, but since this is a Time-Turner it will need to be repaired with more complicated spells." He paused, looking thoughtful. "It's a shame the Ministry keeps their Time-Turners under such supervision. Even I wouldn't be able to get one."

"But this one will be finished by February or March, then?"

"I sincerely hope so," said Dumbledore, then added, "Not that I wouldn't regret you leaving."

Danielle smiled wryly and then yawned hugely.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore immediately apologized. "It's getting late and you have that essay due in Transfiguration tomorrow. Have you finished it?"

The fifteen-year-old stood up and bit her lip. "Yeah," she lied.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "That's good to hear. You know, you and Mr Riddle compete for my best students this year."

As always, Danielle's eyes narrowed at the mention of Riddle.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked. Nothing escaped his notice.

"Nothing, Professor. I just hate Riddle, that's all." Danielle made for the door.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I take it you and young Mr Riddle got off on the wrong foot?"

"Not really, sir. We just don't get along. He's too…self-centered for me." Danielle gritted her teeth.

"I told you to be careful of him," said Dumbledore, though his tone was almost teasing.

"I'd enjoy being a Prefect if it wasn't for him," said Danielle. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and sir, can you mention to him that I said that?"

"I certainly shall," said the old wizard, perfectly serious now.

"Thank you," said Danielle. Just as she was about to leave, Dumbledore spoke up.

"I don't mean to rub salt in your wounds, Miss Ashford, but Mr Riddle seems to have taken an odd interest in you."

"W-What?"

Dumbledore now looked apologetic. "He seems to be watching your every move like a hawk. It's almost like he's examining you."

_Oh Merlin._ "Er…that's just because he's a stalker, Professor Dumbledore." And with that, Danielle ran as fast as she could out of the room.

Once she was safely outside, she relaxed. She was perfectly aware that Riddle was often watching her; as Alyssa and Dylan hadn't neglected to mention. There had been more than one occasion where she had felt his penetrating gaze on her, probably trying to figure out her innermost secrets. Danielle knew she was a conundrum to him; a mystery. Hating him for no reason, then acting like a lovesick fool. Appearing mysteriously out of thin air with no parents. Asking him out boldly then not telling anyone. And she was sure the cherry on top of the cake was that she was one of the best in the class, despite acting like a superficial idiot. Yes, it was completely understandable he was trying to read her mind. But she wasn't about to let him.

_Riddle can speculate all he wants, but he'll never guess the truth,_ Danielle thought defiantly as she headed back to her dormitory, forgetting about her other worries.

She continued thinking in this fashion until she had herself almost convinced it would come true. Smirking faintly, she was about to descend the staircase to the dungeons when she heard hushed voices in the room next to her.

Normally, she would have paid this no attention. But she stopped when she heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"…understand me, Nott. I have come close to discovering the Chamber of Secrets."

Danielle stifled a gasp and glanced furtively around her before pressing her ear against the door.

"What do you mean?" another voice piped up.

"Were you not listening, Macnair?" Tom Riddle said coolly. "I am sure I know where the Chamber of Secrets is. I have been searching for it ever since I arrived at this school. It is only a matter of time before I open it, and I shall unleash the monster within."

There were a number of shocked murmurs from inside the room.

"By this time next year, Hogwarts will be rid of Mudbloods and anyone less than pure. It is time for Salazar Slytherin's dream to come true." Riddle sounded very pleased with himself.

"Where do you think the Chamber is, Tom?" This was Abraxas Malfoy.

"That is for me, and me alone, to know." Riddle spoke with a peculiar amount of power, yet it wasn't haughty.

"When will you open it?" An unfamiliar voice.

"First I will have to open the Chamber, and tame the monster inside. This should not take long with my… _gift_." Danielle could picture his characteristic smirk. "Then I shall have the monster kill one or two Mudbloods, to demonstrate that I am serious. After that, we will overthrow Hogwarts and perform one last essential task."

"Essential task?" The person named Macnair spoke.

"Kill Albus Dumbledore." Riddle's voice held pure venom.

There was a long pause. Apparently the group was trying to digest this new information.

"I will save that chore for myself, though," said Riddle. "If anyone else does it, be warned you will suffer my extreme…disapproval."

"We would never disobey your orders, Tom." Abraxas Malfoy said sincerely. There were similar murmurs of assent.

"And one last thing, before you leave," Riddle said. "Very soon, you will not need to call me by the name 'Tom' anymore."

"What will it be instead?"

"I will tell you that when it is time." There was a silent note of dismissal in Riddle's tone. Footsteps began walking toward the door.

Whenever she looked back on it, Danielle never figured out exactly how she managed to get back to the Slytherin common room. But somehow she managed to force her frozen legs to walk down to the tapestry, utter the password, and stumble up the stairs to her dormitory where she walked into the bathroom and promptly vomited.

Once she was finished, Danielle collapsed against the toilet and rested her head against the cool porcelain, trying to think straight.

Her instincts had been right: Tom Riddle was dangerous. But this wasn't the breaker-of-girls-hearts dangerous Danielle had primarily thought. This was dangerous in a murderer kind of way. Riddle was planning to _kill._ Had he already murdered before? The thought made Danielle want to vomit again.

And he was planning to open the _Chamber of Secrets_ later this year. Danielle vaguely remembered reading a passage from her History of Magic textbook when still in the present. The Chamber had only been opened twice in Hogwarts history: once in 1992 and once…in…1943.

Danielle's heart kick-started as she began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She had learned that _someone_ —the professors in the future had never mentioned specifically who—had opened the Chamber in May 1943. That was when Myrtle (Danielle's stomach clenched painfully again) had died. She had been killed by the Basilisk, which was obviously the monster Riddle had been talking about tonight.

But as far as Danielle knew, Myrtle had been the only one killed. A student had wrongly blamed Rubeus Hagrid for opening the chamber. Hagrid had been expelled, and then the attacks had stopped.

Could Riddle possibly be the person who had opened the Chamber of Secrets? Danielle wouldn't put it past him now, judging by his tone earlier.

Yet there was one thing he wouldn't get away with: and that was killing Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore wouldn't die until 1997, and then he would have been killed by Severus Snape. At least that part of Riddle's plan would fail.

_You have to tell Dumbledore what you just heard,_ a little voice in Danielle's brain said. _He can stop Riddle from opening the Chamber altogether—_

_No! You can't change the future. Has it ever occurred to you that this was_ supposed _to happen? You'd be doing the opposite of what Dumbledore told you to do if you give him any information about the future,_ a second voice said.

But if helped save Myrtle's life, and Hagrid's school career…

Danielle sat there, torn. Should she or shouldn't she tell?

In the end, however, she finally decided not to. It would only unnecessarily complicate things, and as much as she'd like to save Myrtle and Hagrid, it wouldn't be right. Danielle should just sit back and let fate take its course...as much as she hated doing it.

It was well past nine o'clock when Danielle finally glanced at her watch. She would be late for Prefect duty…and Riddle.

She would have to face him. _Be brave, Danielle,_ she told herself. _Be Clara._

And that was when she understood what the Sorting Hat had been trying to say.

It had put her in Slytherin because she was Clara Ashford, not Danielle Bailey. Clara was flirtatious, shallow and not afraid of anything. Danielle was introverted, kind and would never do anything that would hurt anybody else.

Here, in the past, she wasn't Danielle Bailey. She was Clara Ashford. And Clara wasn't a Ravenclaw, however smart she may be. She was cunning, manipulative and cruel.

She was a Slytherin.

Danielle took a deep, shaky breath and stood up, walking soundlessly through her dormitory and down the winding staircase. _You're not Danielle Bailey anymore,_ she told herself. _You're Clara Ashford._

She repeated this mantra over and over in her head as she crossed the Slytherin common room and stepped out into the shadowy hallway, where she recognized a tall, thin figure waiting for her at the end of the corridor.

Balling her hands into fists, she banished all thoughts of recent events out of her mind and walked right into the face of peril.

* * *

Tom Riddle waited, ever so patiently, in the doorway of the classroom he had recently vacated. Ashford was late tonight, but no matter. He had had more time to speak to his… _friends,_ if you could call them that. Tom felt no fondness towards any of them; they were simply tools, disposable people that would only aid him in becoming powerful. And no doubt they _would_ be disposed of, as soon as they were no longer useful.

But Tom had to admit, their reactions tonight had been quite comical. The second as they had learned that he had discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, they had acted differently towards him. Scared, almost. Tom was pleased with that…very pleased. They would soon learn their place.

Everything was going the way he planned. This spring, he would open the Chamber. He would just have to be patient for a while longer. Tom was fine with that. Impatience was of no use to him. Impatient people usually had a short temper and thus that made them weak. Yes, never-ending patience and lack of temper were a virtue.

Speaking of waiting for people, Ashford was late now… _very_ late, in fact. She had never been late for Prefect duty before. Something must have happened. Hmmm…maybe that dunderhead MacDougal had cornered her to reveal her true feelings? Tom smirked. The boy had been harboring affection for the new girl ever since she had arrived at Hogwarts. Even his annoying twin had noticed; in fact, everyone knew except for Ashford herself.

_Strange, how someone that smart doesn't notice what is going on right over her overlarge nose,_ Tom thought sardonically. He was… _bothered_ that Ashford had managed to become the second best in her classes. She must be getting her answers from one of the teachers, because no one with that amount of empty space in the head could possibly achieve the marks that she had.

It was a childish thing, but Tom expected to beat her in O.W.L.s at the end of the year. He would have to make sure she wasn't getting any help, which should be easy. He _was_ Tom Riddle, after all. Fifteen years old and he had already mastered the art of Legilimency! Delving into the teachers' minds and seeing who was helping her should be easy.

It was regrettable that he could not read Ashford's own mind, however. Though her mental shields had been weak at first, they had now grown so strong as to rival Tom's. But he wasn't angry about it. Rage was for men lesser than he. There would be a different way to learn all of Ashford's secrets. That was why he had agreed to go to Hogsmeade with her.

He also needed to find out what she truly thought of him. At first, Tom had thought she was acting. But to his displeasure, after a while even he wasn't sure what her true personality was. Currently he was thinking it might be a case of multiple personalities. That would certainly make the most sense.

The answers would be easy enough to find out. Tom was counting on Ashford being so enamored that she would eventually tell him all he wanted to hear. It was all just a matter of time…and patience.

And, if Tom's plans somehow failed to work, it wouldn't really matter or hinder him in any way. He wanted to read Ashford's mind to see what secrets she contained (and she had to be keeping _some_ , or else why would she be closing her mind in the first place?) and if she would be useful in his plans. Dumbledore might suspect _him_ once he opened the Chamber and set the Basilisk on the Mudbloods, but the old fool would never suspect his pet Ashford. The two seemed to have a close bond for unknown reasons. It was similar to Dumbledore's relationship with Minerva McGonagall in Gryffindor. A lot of the students suspected _that_ association was something more than just teacher and student. Tom smirked again. That was undeniably the reason McGonagall glared at Ashford every time she saw her.

The tapestry down the hallway fluttered and no one other than Clara Ashford herself emerged from the Slytherin common room, looking paler than usual and slightly sick. Tom scrutinized her carefully as she approached him. She hadn't looked like this at dinner.

"Feeling a bit under the weather, Miss Ashford?" he called out to her politely.

"I'm fine, thanks, Tom," Ashford replied, stopping a foot in front of him. "I was taking a nap after finishing homework."

"You are—" Tom checked his watch, "Thirty-two minutes late for Prefect duty, but I suppose I can let it go this time."

"I am?" Ashford asked, looking surprised. "Sorry."

"It is quite alright," he assured her graciously, leading them out of the dungeons. "I was—ah—a bit sidetracked myself, too."

Her grey eyes flickered up to his face before quickly looking back down. "Doing what?" she asked.

"Nothing much. I was merely thinking about our day in Hogsmeade next weekend." Tom smiled winningly at her.

"You were?" There was sudden hope in Ashford's voice. "I thought you'd forgotten…"

Tom shook his head. "How could I forget about something like that?" He reached out and took her hand.

Of course, holding Clara Ashford's hand repulsed him beyond belief, but it was necessary in order for the lie to work. Ashford, dim as she was, would still probably start to suspect something if he didn't.

For the briefest of seconds, Ashford's hand twitched in his, as if she wanted to pull it away. But Tom just held on tighter, and it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I hope you do not mind," he said in a low but seductive voice.

"No, I don't," Ashford said, and Tom was pleased to hear her voice was slightly breathless.

"Good," he said. "I am really looking forward to getting to know you." There was a silent threat in his voice, but obviously the girl wouldn't notice.

"I'm looking forward to getting to know you, too," Ashford was saying. "You're very mysterious, you know, Tom."

"No, I did not know that," he replied. "Am I?"

She nodded.

"Interesting. Maybe it is because I have nothing to hide."

"Oh, but that's not nearly as fun to imagine." Ashford said. "I like picturing you as a great hero who steps in to rescue the girl he loves."

"Is that so?" Tom replied amusedly. "Well, that is _exactly_ what I am." He winked at her and she giggled, that girlish laugh he hated so.

"You're so funny, Tom!" Ashford looked up at him adoringly. He resisted the urge to vomit and continued smiling.

There was a gasp from the end of the hallway. Alyssa MacDougal was standing there, mouth open and staring. She didn't appear to believe her eyes.

"Hey, Alyssa!" Ashford called. "How are you?"

She struggled to speak. "You…he… _Tom Riddle!_ " she finally managed to choke out.

Tom smiled enchantingly. "Hello, Miss MacDougal."

Her mouth fell open even wider, though she didn't seem to have noticed. "Why are you holding hands?"

"Oh, haven't I told you?" Ashford asked. "Tom and I are going to Hogsmeade next weekend."

The female MacDougal blanched. "You _are_ _?_ " she shrieked. "Why didn't you _tell_ me, Clara?"

Ashford shrugged. "I wanted to keep it a secret."

"When did he ask you? Or did you ask him?" MacDougal's eyes were shining, though Tom detected a little bit of jealousy in them. He quickly examined her mind and saw that his assumption was correct, though the envy was overshadowed by happiness for her friend.

"I asked him," Ashford said. "But he suggested Hogsmeade."

"That's _awesome_!" MacDougal yelped. "I'm so happy for you! But…" her face fell slightly, "I thought you h—"

Ashford coughed loudly, and MacDougal stopped. "Anyway, I've gotta go. See you later!" She winked at Ashford, and ran away before Tom had time to look into her mind again.

_What did MacDougal mean by that? And why did Ashford stop her?_ Tom was a little bit aggravated that he cared so much about this, but he didn't let it show.

"So, where do you want to go in Hogsmeade?" Ashford asked as they strolled down the first-floor corridor. "The Three Broomsticks or maybe Madam Puddifoot's?"

Tom looked down at her. "Wherever you want to go. How did you know about those shops?"

Ashford's hand jerked. "Er—Professor Dumbledore gave me a map. It's like how I know my way around the school on the very first day."

"Ah," said Tom, although he did not believe a word of her lies. How _had_ she known that much about Hogsmeade? Granted, one of the other students could have told her, but this seemed highly unlikely.

"Hey—Tom!" a voice said from one of the classrooms. "Who's your girlfriend?"

Tom recognized Abraxas Malfoy's voice at once. "Miss Ashford is simply accompanying me to Hogsmeade next weekend," he said. "She is not my girlfriend, Abraxas."

Malfoy looked abashed. "Sorry, Tom. I just thought that since you were holding hands and all. But you certainly could do better, in my opinion. She's not very easy on the eyes."

Ashford turned bright red. Tom glared at Malfoy. "If you would _kindly_ leave us alone, Abraxas."

"Of course," Malfoy said. He looked at Ashford one more time before carrying on down the hall.

"I apologize for him," Tom said gallantly. "He does not know when to stop."

"It's fine," Ashford mumbled, but she was blinking rapidly as if holding back tears.

Tom nodded, though it was obvious Abraxas Malfoy had only one purpose for girls. Honestly, Tom did not see the point in getting women into bed, unless it was to coerce them to give you information. Most men, like Malfoy, seduced women for pleasure. The physical pleasure was something Tom could understand, though he had no use for it. One thing he did not comprehend, however, was why someone would _want_ to get into bed willingly with someone else. The idea was foreign to him—if you didn't want to bribe someone or feel good physically, why would you even do it in the first place? _Love_ _?_ Tom scorned at the very idea.

The only reason he was holding Ashford's hand right now was to coerce her into giving him information. Luckily she didn't know that.

Tom bent his head close to her ear and whispered, "Maybe we should not look quite so conspicuous. Think of the rumors we will start!"

Ashford grinned, perking up with odd rapidity. "Do you want to keep this relationship secret, then?"

"At least until we go to Hogsmeade." Tom straightened and ran his hand through his hair, a move that always worked.

"Of course," Ashford said, appropriately breathless, and took her hand away from Tom's. The dark-haired boy let out a silent sigh of relief, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his robes. He had never held a girl's hand before, and it was every bit as repulsive as he had imagined it would be.

"Come on," he said, gesturing toward a door. "It is almost time for Prefect duty. We would not want to have Headmaster Dippet angry at us, would we?"

"Definitely not," Ashford agreed, and hurried through the door he held open.


	10. Hogsmeade

The morning of October the third dawned cool and crisp, though the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

Danielle Bailey stood in front of a large mirror in her dormitory, trying to decide what to wear for her "date" with Tom Riddle later that morning. She now wished more than ever that she hadn't been so stupid and asked him out in the first place. It had been more to see whether he'd say yes than anything else.

And he had. Danielle sighed and tried to pull her brush through her wild curls. After she had heard the conversation between Riddle and his friends the previous week, she had been constantly berating herself for being so childish. Riddle obviously had a problem, and she should stay away from him.

Too bad that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. He was wherever she went. In classes, Prefect duty…everywhere. Sometimes, it was all Danielle could do to not scream, "I know what you're up to!" as loud as she could.

"Cla-ra!" Alyssa sang, skipping into the room. "I have the perfect outfit for you!"

"Alyssa," Danielle began, "It's not a date. I don't need to dress up, honestly—"

"Tut, tut," said Alyssa, wagging her finger at Danielle. "You asked Tom out, and he said yes. You're going to Hogsmeade. It's a date."

Danielle opened her mouth to argue but then closed it. Nothing she could say would change Alyssa's mind.

The red-headed girl opened her suitcase and began throwing clothes out haphazardly. Danielle dodged pieces of flying clothes, finally having to hide behind the dresser in fear of getting bombarded.

Eventually Alyssa straightened, triumphantly holding out something red and velvet.

" _No_ ," said Danielle, turning away from the cocktail dress. "I'm going to Hogsmeade, not a ball."

Alyssa gazed at it longingly. "Are you sure? You'd look so cute in it."

"I don't care. Get it out of my sight." Danielle huffed and crossed her arms.

Alyssa rolled her eyes but did as she was told. "Fine. How about…this one?" She held out a piece of beige fabric.

Danielle squinted at it. It was a strapless fawn-colored dress that looked as though it belonged at the beach. She sighed. "I suppose. But isn't it a little…revealing?"

Alyssa frowned. "Not in my opinion."

" _I_ think it's terrible," a snooty voice said from the doorway.

"Thanks for that, Olive," Danielle said through gritted teeth.

The second that Olive Hornby had discovered Riddle and Danielle were going to Hogsmeade together, she had instantly turned on her. Danielle had had to avoid Olive's curses more than once. She was almost unbearable to live with now. But, keeping in character, Danielle was still nice to Olive. However, her patience was wearing short and Danielle wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her temper under control.

And of course, big-mouth Alyssa had yelled it out in the hall, and now the entire school knew Tom Riddle and Clara Ashford were going to Hogsmeade together.

Dylan had changed, too. He barely spoke to Danielle anymore and she noticed he walked around with a miserable expression most of the time. She'd asked him about this, but he refused to answer.

Riddle wasn't acting any different, however. He just smirked and nodded every time someone commented on this. For the thousandth time, Danielle wondered why he had even said yes in the first place.

"Go away, Hornby," Alyssa snapped. Now that Olive was no longer pretending to be friends with Danielle, she'd had a ready-made excuse to insult her longtime enemy.

"This is my dormitory," Olive replied, strutting over to her bed and sitting down primly on the edge. "In case you'd forgotten, MacDougal. I wouldn't be surprised."

Alyssa's face turned as red as her hair and she made to go over to Olive, but Danielle held her back. "I'll put on the dress now, Alyssa."

"Good. Take it." Alyssa shoved it at Danielle. "I have something I'd like to say to dear _Olive._ "

"No, don't!" Danielle grabbed her friend's arm. "It's not worth it!"

Olive smirked. "Smart move, Ashford. Now, go tell Tom that you're not going to Hogsmeade with him."

"Fat chance," Danielle said angrily. Now, instead of regretting her decision to go out with Tom Riddle, she embraced it. It made Olive mad, after all. That had to be worth it.

"Whatever you say." Olive crossed her long, tanned legs primly. "But Tom will be going out with me by the end of this term. You don't stand a chance against me."

"Sure, sure," Danielle mumbled. She stepped into the dress, which fit like a glove. "How do I look?"

"Stunning," Alyssa said. Olive simply smirked.

_You know, Olive and Riddle really do belong together,_ Danielle thought derisively as she inspected her reflection in the mirror. _They both have that exasperating smirk down._

"You'll never look as good as I will today," Olive said, standing up and reaching into her drawer for something. "Wait and see."

"Gee, I can't wait," Alyssa said sarcastically. "In fact, I'd be willing to wait for the rest of my life."

"Touché, MacDougal. But I'm serious. Tom will be so in love with me, he'll leave Ashford in an instant. Brace yourself, _Clara_." Olive didn't look up.

"No—brace _yourself_ , Olive. Tom asked me out first, after all. I'm his first choice. But I guess being second isn't so bad." Danielle smiled sweetly.

Alyssa laughed and gave her friend a high-five.

Danielle slipped into her heels and tossed her hair in her best imitation of Olive before strutting out of the room, Alyssa giggling behind her.

"That was amazing, Clara!" she whispered gleefully. "Did you see Hornby's face?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to say." Danielle smiled.

Alyssa sniggered, then instantly sobered. "Tom's over there!" She pointed over at the couches beside the fire.

Danielle's eyes followed her finger to where a figure stood with his back to them, staring into the crackling flames. She noticed his neatly parted black hair and elegant suit immediately.

Alyssa cleared her throat loudly, and Riddle turned to face Danielle. An expression of pleasant surprise passed over his face, though she wasn't sure whether it was authentic or not. At any rate, she smiled amiably and made her way down to him.

"Miss Ashford." Riddle ghosted over to her, the light of the fire still reflected in his eyes.

"Mr Riddle." Danielle repeated his name in the same tone. He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth.

"You look lovely," he murmured, examining her dress. "Lovelier than usual, I mean."

He was obviously lying—she'd barely brushed her hair and she had never seen any boy glance at her twice, but she forced herself to smile. "And you look handsomer than usual," she told him, taking his extended arm. "Let's go down to Hogsmeade."

"As you wish," he said, and they swept out of the common room.

* * *

The walk down to the village was pleasant for the most part, if one didn't count a possible murderer walking beside you as unpleasant. Danielle tried to ignore Riddle and concentrate on the beautifully colored trees and the crisp autumn air. The other couples that were there all stared at them as they walked past.

Danielle couldn't help but feel gratified at the other students' looks. Clara Ashford, new girl, was going out with Tom Riddle, the most popular boy in the entire school! _Take a look at me now, Olive Hornby,_ she thought. For the first time, she realized the appeal that attention held: for most of her life, she had been content to disappear in a crowd, not wanting to be noticed. But now…well, she supposed the majority of it was Clara Ashford talking. There was still a part of Danielle that couldn't believe what she had done.

"Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks first?" Riddle asked. "It will be less crowded this time of day."

"Sure," Danielle agreed. She adjusted her grip on Riddle's arm so she was half-leaning on him. This had much to do with the fact that she had just spotted Augusta Longbottom, a Gryffindor and one of Riddle's admirers, glaring at her.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" she commented, basking in the glow of her newfound popularity. It might be shallow, but it _did_ feel good. Again, Danielle wondered what had happened to her. Where was the meek, timid Ravenclaw she had used to be? And why was she being so damn _casual_ around someone she knew to be plotting murder?

Riddle glanced sideways at her. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"Autumn is my favorite season," Danielle said, inhaling the crisp air and feeling giddy. "What's yours?"

"I would have to say autumn as well," Riddle remarked.

"Don't you like summer?" Danielle asked. Really, she didn't care whether he liked summer or not, but she had to stay in character.

"No," Riddle said, with perhaps a bit more conviction than was necessary.

"Why not?"

"I prefer being at school." There was a note of finality in his tone that even Danielle decided not to press.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks, quite a crowd had already gathered at the entrance. But as soon as they spotted Riddle, they all began whispering and moved aside for him and Danielle to pass.

The Three Broomsticks was almost exactly the same as it was in 2011, which made Danielle feel more at ease. The only difference was instead of Madam Rosmerta, an older man stood behind the bar. He smiled warmly at the sight of them.

"Ah, Mr Riddle!" he exclaimed. "How was your summer?"

"Very well, thank you, Mr Fletcher," Riddle replied smoothly. "Two Butterbeers, please." He led Danielle over to a table by the window.

While Mr Fletcher got their drinks, Riddle and Danielle sat down across from each other. Riddle gazed out the window, appearing to be deep in thought. Danielle watched him, trying not to appear scornful. He was probably daydreaming of ways to kill the Muggle-borns. _Twisted git,_ she thought.

Mr Fletcher brought them their Butterbeers and Danielle sipped hers slowly, enjoying the familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach. She examined Riddle closely. He did not speak for a very long time, so Danielle eventually looked away. But when she turned back he was staring at her curiously.

"So, Clara," he began. "I have always wanted to know what Holland is like. Can you tell me about it?"

Danielle's heart beat faster. He was testing her.

"Tom, I haven't been there since I was two," she said, trying not to let her tone waver. "How would I remember what it looks like?"

His eyebrows creased together. "But surely you must have gone sometime during the summers—to visit your parents' brothers and sisters?"

Danielle shrugged. "I dunno why. Maybe they thought the war with Grindelwald was getting too dangerous. But at any rate, we didn't have any family there. My father's older sister, my aunt Helga, lives in London. My mum was an only child, and my grandparents—Muggles, you know—didn't live very long." She hoped the lie would be convincing enough for him.

"I see," said Riddle. He took a drink of his Butterbeer. "And your aunt never married?"

Danielle shook her head. "She keeps hinting at some long-lost lover, though."

Riddle rested his chin in his hand. "You seem to have a very intriguing life story."

"I suppose I do, yeah." Danielle pretended to agree, but her mind wasn't on their conversation anymore. Riddle's eyes were burning right into hers; however, she made no effort to look away. They were spellbinding somehow, bottomless. Danielle instinctively felt herself being drawn into them.

She was relaxing physically as well; her hand had slackened on her glass and she felt oddly sleepy. The feeling was so pleasant, she just wanted to float in it forever…

Until the sound of a door slamming jolted her back to her senses. Slightly disoriented, she turned around to see Alyssa and Olive come into the pub, arguing at the top of their voices.

Across from her, Riddle was looking murderous. Danielle slunk down in her seat.

"…stuck-up, snobby, cheating, attention-seeking prat!" Alyssa was yelling.

Olive, clad in a blue floor-length gown, was yelling right back. "Annoying, hyper, idiotic, short—"

"You call being _short_ an insult?" Alyssa spat.

"No, but when you're both short _and_ fat, you—"

Alyssa went for her. The entire pub gasped. Danielle was sure nothing had happened like this in Hogsmeade… _ever_.

"Someone get one of the teachers!" a voice yelled as Mr Fletcher, trying to break up the fight, got sucked into the brawl.

Danielle couldn't take it any longer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riddle jump up, but she was faster. " _Protego!"_ she shrieked, pointing her wand at Alyssa and Olive. The two were instantly separated by an invisible shield.

Alyssa was holding her arm at an awkward angle and Olive's nose was bleeding onto the front of her cocktail dress. They both stared in disbelief at Danielle, who stood with her wand pointing at the pair of them.

"Oh, just stop it!" Danielle shrieked, feeling her temper boil up and bubble over. "I'm not going to lie anymore—I'm sick of the two of you always fighting. Alyssa, you need to calm down. And Olive, I was never your friend. I'm sorry. Clara Ashford is not who you thought she was. _And I don't want to be your girlfriend, Riddle,_ " she growled, whirling to face him and jabbing her wand in his face. "I'd rather hang myself."

Everyone stared in disbelief as the curly-haired girl stormed to the front of the pub. Just before she left, she said, "And Olive, you can have Riddle. You two deserve each other."

With a jangle of not-so-merry bells, she was gone, leaving the pub in a state of utter shock.

* * *

As she stalked down High Street, still not quite over her fit of temper, Danielle couldn't help but feel slightly smug at her speech. She had never screamed like that in public before.

_Whaddya think of me now, Riddle_? Danielle stuck her hands in her pockets and ducked her head as a cold wind blew down the street, sending leaves scattering in every direction.

After about five minutes of walking, she found a lone rock, sheltered from the wind by a small grove of trees. Perching on it, she closed her eyes and began to feel the first bit of regret—she was supposed to be acting inconspicuous! What if she had accidentally changed the future somehow, just by that once incident?

She didn't notice the sky growing steadily darker and the temperature getting colder, so deeply buried in her thoughts was she. It was only when the first few drops of rain began to fall that she realized a storm was coming.

Wrapping her arms tightly around her, Danielle let a tear fall, hovering on the frozen ground for a split second before melting.

It wasn't fair. She didn't _ask_ for any of this. She didn't _ask_ to get stuck in the past. Why her?

She was timesick, plain and simple. She wanted to get back to 2011 and see her family again. And, as much as she liked Alyssa, Dylan and Myrtle, she wanted her old friends back.

Feeling more tears build up in her eyes, Danielle quickly wiped them away. It would do her no good to cry.

A low, distant rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Danielle's head instantly snapped up. _Uh-oh._ She didn't want to be stuck out here in the middle of a thunderstorm. She had better head back to the village if she wanted to stay dry.

Taking one last shuddering breath, Danielle stood up and began to walk away, only stopping when she heard the crack of a branch snapping behind her. She whirled around, brandishing her wand.

Olive Hornby stood just inside the tree line with a truly evil smile on her face. "Aw," she mocked. "Brave Clara Ashford, _crying_ _!_ "

Danielle's eyes narrowed. "You snoop," she hissed.

Olive's smirk grew wider and she stepped out to face the other girl, pointing her wand straight at her heart. "I wouldn't call myself a _snoop_ —more like an eavesdropper."

Another crack of thunder, this time much closer…and the first drop of rain hit.

" _Impedimenta_ _!_ " Danielle shrieked. Taken off guard, Olive was blasted backwards. Her wand flew out of her hand.

" _Accio Olive's wand!_ " Danielle cried. The wand shot towards her.

Olive's eyes flashed. "Give that back!" she screeched. "Or, Ashford, I swear I will—"

Hmm. So Olive, like Danielle, was smarter than she let on. What a strange world.

Olive muttered something unintelligible under her breath and her wand jerked right of Danielle's hand.

Before the Prefect could react, Olive pointed her wand straight at her. " _Expell—"_

" _Stupefy_ _!_ " Danielle yelled, waving her wand wildly.

A jet of red light shot out of Danielle's wand, aiming for Olive, but she simply flicked her wand and the Stunning Spell was deflected back onto Danielle, who narrowly managed to dodge it.

The rain was beginning to fall harder now. Danielle felt it soak into her hair, sending her curls into a wave of frizz.

"Spunky little thing, aren't you, Ashford?" Olive called maliciously as she warded off another of Danielle's jinxes. "But I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you…you let me have Tom, after all." She abruptly lowered her wand.

Danielle was so surprised, she stopped trying to jinx Olive and just stared openmouthed at her. The other girl muttered something under her breath.

"What was that?" Danielle asked.

"Oh, nothing." Olive sounded far-off. "I think you little friend MacDougal is looking for you. I'd go see her…or maybe I wouldn't." Se sneered. "See you, Ashford."

Danielle mutely stood aside as Olive pushed roughly past her and disappeared again into the woods.

_What in the name of Merlin was that all about_? she thought, still dazed, as she stumbled back onto the main road. She barely noticed she was soaking wet and her dress clung to her body.

"Clara!" Danielle looked up as she spotted Alyssa sprinting towards her.

"Where _were_ you?" her red-headed friend demanded, shaking the rain out of her eyes. "I've been looking for you for the past hour!"

"I was gone that long?" Danielle asked. "Wow."

Alyssa peered closely at her. "Are you okay, Clara?" she asked. "You look…dead."

Danielle frowned. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're not even looking at me and you're staring off into space." Alyssa snapped her fingers in front of Danielle's face.

Danielle blinked twice slowly and turned to face Alyssa. "What did you say?" Alyssa's voice seemed to be coming from far off. It was like she was hearing her through a long tunnel.

Now Alyssa looked scared. "Clara? What were you doing in the woods?"

"Dueling with Olive Hornby. She followed me." Danielle struggled to remember as her vision blurred for a second and she felt unsteady on her feet. An odd ringing filled her ears.

"So that's where Hornby went," Alyssa muttered. "She— _Clara_ _!_ "

Danielle was bent over, clutching her head as a violent wave of dizziness shot through her. She could barely think straight for the colors and shapes whirling around her.

"Help!" she faintly heard Alyssa yell. "Riddle—Tom—I don't know what's wrong with Clara!"

Muffled voices, shouting, yelling, multiple roars of thunder…Danielle felt as if she was slipping off the edge of a precipice.

And then she let go.

Dimly, she felt herself fall backward, someone barely managing to catch her at the last second, before the blackness took over.


	11. Dylan's Secret

"What happened, Alyssa?"

"When will she wake up?"

"Is she dead?"

"Guys, shut up! You'll wake her!"

_Too bad I'm already awake_ , Danielle thought sarcastically, slowly drifting back into consciousness. She was beginning to remember what had happened in Hogsmeade: her outburst, her duel with Olive, and the strange way she had felt coming back. What had happened?

Danielle coughed weakly and moaned, aware of a throbbing pain in her head.

"Clara! She's awake!" three voices chorused from somewhere above her.

Wearily, Danielle opened her eyes to see the worried faces of Alyssa, Dylan and Myrtle hovering above her. "W—where am I?" she groaned.

"In the hospital wing," Alyssa said. "You fainted."

"I did?" Danielle asked. "Funny. I've never fainted before."

"Madam Cutteridge says it was some sort of curse," Dylan said, his freckled face unusually pale. Danielle realized that it was the first time he had directly spoken to her in a week.

"Who's Madam Cutteridge?" she asked, struggling to sit up. The hospital wing looked similar to how it did in 2011. Danielle was fast beginning to realize that a lot of the places in Hogwarts were timeless.

"The matron," Alyssa answered.

As she spoke, the door on the opposite side of the room opened and a motherly-looking woman came out. When she saw Danielle was awake, she bustled over to her.

"How are you feeling, dear?" she asked kindly.

"A bit sore," said Danielle, wincing as she tried to adjust her position, "but I'm fine for the most part, I think."

"That was a pretty nasty curse you got hit with," the nurse commented, handing Danielle a flask of pink liquid. "It's a good thing you were with other people when you fainted, or else you could have been in much worse condition."

"What exactly happened to me, though?" Danielle asked, drinking deeply from the jug. As soon as the liquid hit her stomach, all her pains disappeared and she felt as good as new.

The nurse stepped back and pursed her lips, as if deciding what way would be best to tell her. "It's a very dangerous curse, called the _Langzaam-werkt_. It literally means "slow-working", and that's just it—it takes a while for the symptoms to start appearing. Used at its most powerful, the indications of the curse can take months to start showing themselves. By that time, it is usually too late to save anyone.

"But, in your case, it was a weak spell, and so it only took a couple of minutes. I don't believe it was meant to kill, though. It would have been much stronger if it had." Madam Cutteridge looked seriously at Danielle, who struggled to absorb this information.

"So Olive Hornby used a powerful Dark curse on Clara?" Dylan asked.

"As I said, I don't think it was meant to be fatal," Madam Cutteridge said hesitantly. "But if it was, the student that used it on her will probably be expelled. It's illegal at Hogwarts."

Alyssa and Myrtle both looked triumphant. Dylan still looked anxious.

"You mean they're expelling Olive?" Danielle asked.

"Most likely. Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore are speaking with her right now," Madam Cutteridge said, straightening her hair piece before leaving.

A thought suddenly occurred to Danielle. "What time is it?"

"Four o'clock," Alyssa said. "You were unconscious for two hours."

"Riddle brought you up," Dylan added, a sudden sharp tone in his voice.

Danielle's eyes popped wide open. " _Riddle_ _?_ He was there?"

Alyssa nodded enthusiastically, her good humor returning now that it was established Danielle was all right. "He appeared just as you fainted. _Right into his arms_ _!_ " She grinned widely. "I swear, it couldn't have been more perfect if it was planned—"

"Wait!" Danielle gasped, as the memory of falling into a pair of strong arms resurfaced. "That was Riddle? He caught me?"

Alyssa laughed at the look on Danielle's face. "Yes. I thought for a second you had done it on purpose. And you should have seen the look on his face!" She giggled before continuing. "Anyway, he carried you all the way back to the castle in the pouring rain with me running after him."

"I was in the Entrance Hall," Myrtle said excitedly, her round childish face lighting up with enthusiasm, "and a bunch of the teachers were there too, talking. Then the front doors opened and Tom came in carrying you. Everyone stared!"

"I tell you, it was like a Muggle film!" Alyssa said. "And so _romantic_ , too!"

Danielle glared at her. So did Dylan.

"Anyway," he said loudly, "Riddle carried you up here. And then he left. End of story."

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong, Dylan?"

"Nothing," he muttered, turning away from her.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, why don't you just _tell_ Clara how you feel?"

If looks could kill, Alyssa would have been dead several times over. Dylan crossed his arms and didn't speak. Myrtle pressed a hand against her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Dylan fancies you," Alyssa said bluntly.

Danielle blinked dumbly at her several times. " _What_ —oh, I mean, that's…er…"

Nobody had ever fancied her before; at least, if they did they had never told her. In 2011, Danielle was known as the shy, quiet Ravenclaw with her nose permanently stuck in a book. She had never been called pretty by anyone other than her friends. And, to be frank, she had never really cared about getting a boyfriend. She had only been using Riddle.

So she had no idea what to do or say. She wasn't sure how to tell Dylan she had no romantic feelings toward him without it sounding rude.

"Go ahead," Dylan mumbled. "Say it. Laugh."

"Why would I laugh?" Danielle asked. "It explains a lot. Like why you've been acting weird around me lately."

"It was that noticeable," Dylan muttered to himself. "Great."

Danielle reached over and patted his hand. "It's okay, Dylan. I wouldn't have guessed it anyway."

Alyssa looked rather exasperated. "Can we get on with the conversation, please?"

Dylan ignored her. "So…I guess you're going out with Riddle then, huh?"

Danielle choked. "I was _never_ going out with Riddle." She quickly explained their conversation on the first day of school and her outburst in the pub. "Honestly, I don't know why he caught me. He's probably thrilled that I was hurt."

"I dunno," said Dylan. "He looked pretty convincing when he was here."

"He's a good actor, though," said Danielle. "Like me." She coughed feebly.

"So, now that your "secret" is out, no more acting like a dimwit towards him?" Alyssa asked, getting back into the conversation.

Danielle shook her head.

"Aw. It was kind of entertaining to watch," Alyssa joked.

"Hopefully not for him," said Danielle. She looked back at Dylan. "You know, you're one of my best friends." _In this time,_ she added silently. "And…I don't know how to say this, but…"

"You don't like me that way," said Dylan. He ducked his head. "It's okay. I was expecting it, anyway." He stood up and shuffled out of the hospital wing, head ducked. Danielle felt a bout of shame as she realized she had really hurt him.

"Maybe you should go after him," Myrtle suggested.

Alyssa's eyebrows knit together. "He probably wants to be alone now to nurse his wounds. Don't worry. He was like this last year when he asked out Hornby."

"He asked _her_ out?" Danielle asked, disbelievingly.

"Yeah," said Alyssa, nodding. "She just looked at him like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. Didn't even say anything."

Danielle's mouth fell open. "What a…" she couldn't think of a word vulgar enough.

"That's part of the reason why I hate her so much," Alyssa said. "Apparently the only one good enough for her is Tom."

"They deserve each other," Danielle added fervently.

Just then, the doors of the hospital wing swung open, not revealing Dylan as Danielle had expected, but Tom Riddle, looking as composed as ever. "I see you're awake, Miss Ashford," he said, striding over to her bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"I'll feel better once you're gone," Danielle said. Alyssa and Myrtle gasped.

His expression didn't change. "Yes, I was quite taken aback by your comments in the Three Broomsticks. I was under the impression that you liked me."

"Sure," said Danielle. "That's the impression I was trying to give. It was kind of fun, fooling you, honestly." She put on her best vacant expression. " _Oh, dear_ Tom _, I love you so! I'll come with you anywhere you want to go!_ " She batted her eyelashes at the end.

Alyssa and Myrtle sniggered.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Touché, Miss Ashford. I will admit I was fooled, then. But do you mind explaining to me exactly _why_ you decided to act like a…like you did?"

"Simple. On the first day I came here, it was quite entertaining to watch you suck up to Headmaster Dippet." She smirked at the memory. "So I decided to play a little game. I decided to become a person whom I knew would annoy you more than anyone else—an unintelligent, shallow, sniveling, clingy girl, who would be smitten with you. And it worked."

Riddle coolly stared at her. "Well, it seems I underestimated you, Miss Ashford. I offer my congratulations." There was a deadly tone to his voice, however. Danielle chose to ignore it.

"Thank you," she replied, sarcasm evident in her tone. "So, when are you going to leave?"

Alyssa hid her smile behind her hand. Riddle's eyes flickered towards her. She coughed to cover it up.

"I was sent up here, Miss Ashford, to inform you that Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore are coming. They need to speak with you," Riddle finally said, turning back to Danielle.

Her eyes widened. "What? Why?" she asked, forgetting to be rude for a second.

"I imagine it has to do with earlier today," Riddle said. He turned his head toward the door. "Ah, here they come now."

Sure enough, the door to the hospital wing opened for the second time that day and Professor Dumbledore strode in, followed by Dippet and Olive Hornby.

Danielle immediately straightened up when she saw Olive, reaching for her wand. But her hand froze in midair when she saw the other girl's face.

Olive was sobbing loudly, not even bothering to wipe her eyes. Her makeup was running in black lines down her face and her perfect mahogany hair was mussed as if she had been running her fingers agitatedly through it. Danielle could only stare for a second, shocked.

"I see you're awake, Miss Ashford," said Dippet. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, just a bit sore," Danielle replied. "Madam Cutteridge told me I'd be alright."

"See?" Olive asked shrilly. "She's fine! So you don't need to expel me!"

"Miss Hornby, the fact remains that you used an extremely dangerous Dark curse on a fellow pupil," Dippet said. He was no longer the slightly scatterbrained, easygoing figure Danielle had thought of him as. Now he radiated power and authority with an almost impressive aura that even Riddle probably couldn't pull off. Danielle was awed. She could see how he became Headmaster.

"I—I didn't know it could kill her!" Olive wailed. "I just wanted to hurt her!"

"You're lucky it didn't even do that," Dumbledore said quietly. "If she had so much as suffered a concussion, you could have been taken to the Ministry of Magic for a hearing."

Olive began to cry even harder. Danielle exchanged a glance with Alyssa, who looked like she was about to laugh again.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, where the only noise was Olive hyperventilating loudly. Dippet was staring at her with disapproval written all over his face. Dumbledore looked much the same, though the anger was only in his eyes. Myrtle looked as though she didn't know what to do. Riddle stared at Olive with an unfathomable expression on his face.

Finally, Danielle cleared her throat. "Um, Headmaster Dippet, sir?…I don't think you should expel Olive."

Everyone turned to her in astonishment. Olive was so surprised she stopped bawling.

Dippet, Alyssa and Myrtle looked dumbfounded. Riddle turned his intense stare onto her. Danielle could feel him searching her face carefully, but she forced herself not to look at him. She concentrated on Dumbledore, who was smiling as if he had expected her to say just that.

"Miss Ashford, she could have seriously hurt you…" Dippet began.

But Danielle shook her head. "I really don't think she meant to. And…if she was expelled, I think it would change a lot of things that weren't meant to be changed." She looked pointedly at Dumbledore. His smile grew even wider.

At this cryptic remark, she could almost feel Riddle's frustration. Another mystery had been added to her character. And the sweet part was, he couldn't figure it out.

"Are you sure, Clara?" Alyssa asked. "I mean, think of all the things Olive's done to us."

"I'm sure," Danielle said.

"Well," Dippet sighed, "I suppose you're right. Miss Hornby, you have Miss Ashford to thank."

"Thank you," Olive said, wiping the last of her tears off her face. There was a snide tone to her voice, though, and her confidence was growing by the second. Danielle felt a pang of anger. Maybe she should have let Dippet expel her after all.

"However, Miss Hornby," Dumbledore said, "you will be serving detention once a week for the rest of the year."

Olive's mouth fell open. "The rest of the _year_ _?_ Why?"

"The curse is not a matter to be taken lightly, Miss Hornby," said Dippet. "You ought to be in Miss Ashford's debt for a very long time."

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, though she shot Danielle a death glare.

Danielle smiled. "You're welcome."

"And Miss Ashford, you will serve detention with me for the next month," Dippet said.

" _What_ _?_ " Danielle asked in disbelief, jumping up. However, she moved too fast and a wave of dizziness engulfed her. She stumbled to the side—where Riddle caught her almost instantly. "Are you sure you're well, Miss Ashford?" he asked.

She glared at him and pulled away. "Headmaster, why do I have detention?"

"The fact remains that you dueled as well with Miss Hornby. We cannot overlook that," said Dippet.

Danielle was outraged. "That is so—"

"Well, I think that settles matters," Dumbledore said merrily, interrupting her. He ushered Olive toward the door. "I shall look forward to seeing you at dinner tonight, Miss Ashford."

"Thank you, sir," Danielle mumbled, still angry.

Once Dumbledore and Olive had left, Dippet turned to Riddle. "Tom, do you mind assisting me in bringing some Venomous Tentaculas into the greenhouse?" he asked. "I feel another pair of hands would be a help."

"Of course, sir," Riddle said quietly. Before he left, he turned to Danielle. "Do you feel well enough to do Prefect duty tonight?"

"Yes," Danielle nearly spat. There was no way she was showing weakness to him. "See you then, Riddle."

He nodded his head once and bid goodbye to Alyssa and Myrtle before leaving.

There was a short silence, then Myrtle said "Wow."

"What?" Danielle asked.

Myrtle and Alyssa shared a look as they left the hospital wing. "You two have a very…entertaining relationship," Alyssa said finally. "It's interesting to watch."

Danielle's eyes narrowed. "I hate him."

"Do you?" Myrtle asked.

"Yes," Danielle replied as they began climbing the stairs. She thought of Riddle's arrogant smirk, the way he had sounded when he was talking about the Chamber of Secrets…

"Tom Riddle," she said, louder than she'd really meant to, "is the most big-headed, conceited, egotistical, twisted, _sick_ person I have ever met. What's _not_ to hate about him?"

Alyssa and Myrtle both looked surprised. What Danielle didn't know, however, was that she had been nearly shouting, and everyone within a two-floor radius had heard her…including Tom Riddle. If she had looked closely, she would have seen a pair of dark blue eyes following her all the way upstairs.


	12. Unfortunate News

"…Eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of frog…no—tongue of _dog_! That's it. I'm done with this," Danielle said aloud, throwing her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook down on the table. She sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes and staring up at the ceiling. If she had to read one more word, she would go insane.

 _Not that I'm not there already,_ she thought wryly. _Thank Merlin it's December…two more months to go. And thank Merlin things have settled down a bit._

After the Olive Hornby incident back in October, Danielle had been sure to keep a low profile. She wasn't sure she could handle anything else.

And, luckily, nothing else had happened. The rest of October and November had dragged by—albeit slowly, but with little interruption. At least, this was the case for Danielle. The Muggle war was getting worse and worse, and students often got letters from their families informing them of the frequent air-raids and bombings. One tragic incident had occurred just a few weeks back, where a third-year Gryffindor boy had had to go back to London because his mother had been killed. This had served as a sort of wake-up call to Danielle. Being as isolated and as far north as Hogwarts was, it seemed as if they were fully protected, worlds away from the fighting and death that both the Muggle and wizarding worlds were caught up in. But after Danielle started reading the _Daily Prophet_ , she had to admit that the war was starting to unnerve her. She remembered learning about Hitler and the Holocaust from when she went to Muggle primary school, and felt a profound sense of sadness that she couldn't do anything to help somehow. But she was helplessly bound to her promise to Dumbledore that she wouldn't reveal anything about the future. _What happens is meant to happen,_ she told herself firmly, but there were still times when she read an article about another air-raid or death, and felt positively sick inside.

On a different note, in early November the teachers had started giving the students twice as much homework…to be completed in half the time. Danielle was grateful for this, as it meant she could concentrate totally on her studies and not have to worry about things like the fact that she was a time-traveler, that Dumbledore would never be able to fix the Time-Turner, that she would accidentally reveal her secret …whenever she was studying, Danielle liked to pretend that she was back in 2011 and that nothing had changed. It was probably the only thing that kept her functioning.

Of course, her spending long periods of time in the library hadn't gone unnoticed. At first, Alyssa and, less often, Dylan (things were still awkward between them) tried to get Danielle to venture outside or to Hogsmeade once in a while, but eventually they gave up after her frequent, vehement refusals. Alyssa often asked Danielle if she was going mad. "All you do is closet yourself up in that library," she frequently complained. "It's not _healthy_."

However, the upside was that because of this, Danielle still competed with Riddle for top student of the year. Honestly, she'd been surprised she could keep it up. Maybe she _was_ that smart. However, the more likely explanation was that she had just gotten lucky and caught Riddle on his "bad days"…he'd gotten answers wrong in class several times already, to general astonishment.

A smirk slid across Danielle's face as she remembered his livid expression and Slughorn's shocked one when he'd incorrectly brewed a Love Potion. To be fair, Danielle hadn't done too well either, but at least her potion hadn't resembled toxic sludge like his.

A loud _bang_ from across the table startled her, and she looked up to see Alyssa, slightly disoriented. She'd almost fallen asleep.

"You're _still here_?" Alyssa asked in disbelief. She jerked her finger over at the window, where a brilliant sunset lit up the grounds sparkling with freshly-fallen snow. "It's five o'clock. You've been in here since eleven. Nobody, and I _mean_ nobody, should _ever_ study that hard for that long."

Danielle had to laugh. "I was sleeping, not studying. But you do have a point. The sight of books is starting to make me feel nauseous."

"Only _starting_ to?" Alyssa asked. She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, want to come have a snow fight with me and Dylan? There's still an hour until dinner."

Danielle bit her lip, considering. _I have nothing to lose,_ she thought, shrugging. "Fine."

"Good. I wasn't going to let you say no," Alyssa said. She grabbed Danielle by the arm and forcibly dragged her out of the library. Danielle cast a glance back at her abandoned textbooks before dutifully following her friend.

* * *

"Got you, Dylan!" Danielle crowed triumphantly as she hit him square in the face with a snowball. Dylan spluttered for a second, wiping the snow off his face before throwing one of his own at her. Danielle laughed and dodged it, playfully hitting Alyssa next to her.

They'd only been out ten minutes but already Danielle could feel herself unwinding. Here, she didn't have to worry about anything—not school or the war or Riddle. She felt nothing but excited happiness and adrenaline rushing through her veins. _This is how life is supposed to be,_ she thought, narrowly avoiding another snowball. _I'm just a worrywart, I guess. I can't believe I passed up having fun for homework._

Something cold hit her in the back and she whirled around to see that Dylan had snuck up behind her. She bent down and was about to make another snowball when she tripped and accidentally fell right onto Dylan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

"Sorry," Danielle apologized quickly, feeling heat rush to her face as she stared down at him. He'd grabbed her shoulders to break her fall.

"It's all right," Dylan said. Danielle noticed his face was very red and he still hadn't let go of her.

For another second, they stared at each other. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Danielle wondered why Alyssa wasn't coming over to them.

Suddenly, Dylan pulled her face down to his. Their lips were inches from each other. Danielle's heart began to pound. What in the name of Merlin was he doing? Was he going to kiss her? Right here, where half the school would be witnesses? She thought she'd made it clear she didn't like him like that.

"Clara," he whispered, his breath sending white puffs of air up into the sky, "I—"

But Danielle never got to find out what he wanted to say. Someone cleared their throat from above, and she looked up, with an unpleasant jolt in her stomach, at Tom Riddle. He stared down at them with disapproval and disgust written all over his face.

"Yes?" Dylan asked angrily, sitting up. Danielle scrambled away from him.

"When you are _quite_ finished, Miss Ashford," Riddle said, ignoring Dylan, "the Headmaster would like a word with you."

"What? _Why?_ I finished all my detentions and I haven't gotten into any more trouble," Danielle said, annoyed. She stood up and brushed the snow off of her clothes, searching for Alyssa. She was about thirty feet away, focused on making an army of snowballs and oblivious to what had just happened.

"Tell me, Riddle," Dylan said, teeth clenched, "Why did you decide to bother us now, when we were obviously…er…busy?"

Riddle met his gaze coolly. "My apologies. I was not aware Miss Ashford was otherwise involved. On the contrary, she appeared to be quite relieved for the interruption."

Dylan turned scarlet. Danielle made a half-strangled noise.

"Hey!" Alyssa called, jogging over to them. Danielle wanted to hug her. "What's going on?"

Nobody spoke. Pure hatred radiated from both Dylan and Riddle, who were still staring each other down. Danielle stood awkwardly in between them.

"Um…I gotta go," she finally said. "Headmaster Dippet wants to see me."

Alyssa's face fell. "But we were just getting started!"

"I know. Sorry," Danielle said. "I'll see you at dinner, I guess?"

"Sure," said Alyssa, disappointed. Her attention focused on the silent conflict that was going on beside them. Dylan now looked slightly green. Danielle wasn't sure she wanted to know what mind game Riddle was playing now. "What's wrong with them?"

"I have no idea," Danielle replied truthfully. "And really, I don't want to know."

She turned on her heel and began to walk back up to the castle. Within seconds, she sensed Riddle behind her. There was no point in trying to outrun him, so she merely sighed and waited for him to catch up.

"I'm assuming Dippet wanted you to find me?" she asked him as soon as he was in earshot.

"Yes." His response was immediate and brisk.

"As usual," she muttered. "Have you ever thought of, I don't know, maybe _leaving me alone_?"

Riddle turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. "I could say the same thing about you, Miss Ashford."

Danielle's mouth fell open. "I leave you alone!" she said indignantly. "All the time. I'm never the one who initiates all this."

She could have sworn his lips twitched. "All this?"

She was about to reply when another thought crossed her mind. "By the way, why are you following me to Dippet's office?"

"He called me up as well," Riddle responded smoothly as they entered the castle. "Since we are both Prefects in the same House, he felt it logical that I would know where you were."

Danielle ground her teeth together. "Very clever of him."

"Indeed," Riddle said, though she wasn't sure if he had picked up on her sarcasm or not. If she were to say something about him opening the Chamber of Secrets in a mocking tone, would he think it was a joke?

Wisely, however, she kept her mouth shut all the way to Dippet's office, where they were ushered in immediately.

"Hello again, Tom," the Headmaster said as they all took their seats in the grand room. "I see you've found Miss Ashford."

Riddle nodded, looking almost impatient. Danielle figured he must be extremely curious about why they were up here.

Dippet settled comfortably in his chair and laced his fingers together before speaking. "I called you especially up here because I felt that you two should know the true reasons for the… _inconvenience_ that you're placed in." He cleared his throat. "As you must know by now, the war involving Grindelwald is getting steadily worse. The Minister of Magic and I have been discussing matters, and we've come to the conclusion that an attack on Britain is probably imminent."

 _If by "imminent" you mean two and a half years, then yeah, it's imminent,_ Danielle thought.

"As a result, it means Hogwarts is no longer safe," Dippet continued. "With a possible attack on the school over Christmas, I've decided that it would be best if the two of you were to go back to the orphanage over the break."

Beside Danielle, Riddle stiffened. "Huh?" she asked in confusion.

Seeing her expression, Dippet said kindly, "Earlier this morning, I received an owl from your aunt saying that she will be visiting friends in Holland this winter, and she wishes that I place you in a suitable institution during the break. I'm afraid that leaves Tom's orphanage."

Danielle leapt to her feet, looking back and forth between Dippet and Riddle. "Being with _him_ for two weeks straight? Oh, _fuc—"_

"Are you sure there is absolutely no other option?" Riddle asked urgently, interrupting Danielle's expletive. "The orphanage cannot be the only place where a girl of fifteen can stay."

Dippet looked surprised. "I'm sorry, Tom, but it's the only thing that can be done. I spoke to Mrs Cole earlier today and she said that there would be an available room for Miss Ashford."

Danielle had a sudden vision of the orphanage going in up flames during an air-raid. "Oh, no," she moaned, sitting back down heavily and rubbing her temples.

"It won't be that bad, Miss Ashford," Dippet tried to console her. "You'll have Tom with you, after all."

She lifted her head to shoot Riddle a dark look. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	13. A Moment of Frivolity

"Can you believe it?" Danielle grumbled to Alyssa over supper. "Two weeks with Riddle! I'd rather fight a dragon."

Her friend looked sympathetic. "Come on, Clara. It's not that bad. Besides, you won't have to be with him all the time. You'll be in London, remember."

"You can visit us," Dylan suggested. When Danielle looked at him, he turned slightly red and pretended to be fascinated by his food.

"Yeah!" Alyssa said excitedly. "You can even stay a night or two if you want."

Danielle grinned. "Thanks, guys."

"Going to the orphanage, Ashford?" Olive Hornby asked from down the table. "I can't say I'm surprised. I'm sure you'll be more suited to the people there."

Danielle ignored her. Though Olive still made cruel remarks, she hadn't tried to do much else. Dumbledore and Dippet were keeping too close an eye on her for that.

A loud laugh from the opposite end of the table caught Danielle's attention. Riddle was sitting there with a few sixth-and-seventh years, Abraxas Malfoy and Angela Greengrass. Angela was sitting the closest to Riddle. As Danielle watched, she spoke to him and edged even closer. He smiled in response and gently touched her shoulder, bending his head close to whisper in her ear.

A hot surge of anger balled up in Danielle's stomach, even though she knew it was all an act on Riddle's part. But she wasn't annoyed that Riddle was leading Angela on. She was annoyed that Angela was even speaking to him.

As quickly as it had come, the irritation passed, leaving Danielle stunned. That was weird. She must still be angry over having to go to the orphanage for Christmas, and the sight of Riddle had triggered it.

Dinner ended soon after that, and Danielle headed off to go to Prefect duty. On the way, she caught sight of Professor Dumbledore heading to his office. "Sir!" she called, jogging after him.

Dumbledore turned around and smiled. "Good evening, Miss Ashford. How are you?"

"A bit upset, in fact. Why do I have to go the orphanage?"

Dumbledore's smile disappeared. "I tried everything in my power to plead on your behalf of staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, but the Headmaster's wish is that all students leave the castle."

Danielle sighed. "Apparently Aunt Helga sent an owl saying that she was going to Holland over Christmas."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, that she did."

"Then why can't I go with her?" Danielle challenged.

"She's leaving tomorrow, you see. There's not enough time for you to be ready." A teasing tone entered Dumbledore's voice.

"So…I really _have_ to go to the orphanage? There's no other option?"

"You'll be safe there, Miss Ashford," the professor said. "Trust me on this one."

Sensing it was a losing fight, Danielle relented. "Fine," she groaned. "But I'm not going to like it."

Dumbledore put his hand on her shoulder. "I never said you would, my dear."

* * *

The last week before break flew by so quickly that looking back, Danielle almost wasn't sure it had happened at all. The old saying about time going by faster when you were dreading something was spot on. It seemed as if it was only a day later that she found herself sitting on the Hogwarts Express as it sped towards London.

Across from her, Alyssa and Dylan were playing a game of Exploding Snap, but Danielle didn't join in. She stared out the window at the countryside flashing past, wondering how on earth she was supposed to survive in a Muggle orphanage. She knew enough about them from 2011, as her grandparents were Muggles, but times were obviously different sixty years previously. She should have paid more attention in Muggle Studies.

There was a timid knock at the compartment door and Danielle saw Myrtle standing there. She beckoned for her to come in.

"Hi, Clara," Myrtle said shyly, glancing nervously over at Alyssa and Dylan who hadn't even noticed her entrance. "Olive Hornby was trying to jinx me so I decided to come in here."

Danielle exhaled noisily. "This is getting out of hand. I think that prank is long overdue."

"What do you mean?" Myrtle asked.

"You'll see." Danielle stood up. "Alyssa!"

" _What_?" she said in annoyance, finally tearing her eyes from the game.

"Come. I need your help." Danielle poked her head out of the compartment door, checking to see if anyone was lurking about.

"With what?"

"You'll see."

* * *

Ten minutes later, everything was set. Alyssa stood in the empty hallway, waiting for her cue.

"Ready?" Danielle hissed from inside her compartment. "Three…two…one… _now_!"

An ear-piercing scream shattered the near silence of the train. Alyssa crumpled to the floor, clutching her leg and yelling as loud as she could.

People began to pour into the hallway, staring at the fifth-year writhing in pain. A few students tried to go up to her, but Alyssa just screamed louder.

Unnoticed by the crowd, Danielle and Dylan slipped through the throngs of people, heading towards the back of the train.

"She really is a good actress, isn't she?" Danielle murmured, craning her neck back to look at Alyssa. "I wouldn't have been able to do that."

"She won't be able to keep it up for long, though," Dylan replied as they entered the compartment at the very end. "We don't have much time."

They were in Hornby's compartment. She shared it with Walburga Black and Abraxas Malfoy, who was her latest conquest. Danielle saw Malfoy's coat, made out of Niffler fur, strewn carelessly on the floor and wrinkled her nose. "Stupid git," she said angrily. "I bet he doesn't even know what a Niffler is—"

"Calm down, Clara," Dylan said urgently, grabbing her wrist. "You can fight for Niffler rights later. We need to hurry. Here's Hornby's stuff." He threw a purse at her.

Danielle opened the clasp and quickly rooted through it. "It's all makeup."

"That's not going to help us— _aha_!" Dylan grinned. "She left her wand here."

"Thank Merlin she's that thick." Danielle grabbed the wand from him and replaced it with a joke wand that she'd bought from Zonko's the week before, set to jinx the first person who touched it. "What next?"

"Goliath." Dylan reached into his pocket where an absolutely enormous frog hopped onto his hand. Danielle handed him Olive's purse, where Dylan stuffed his pet in. "Sorry, mate," he said to the frog, who stared up at them reproachfully. "I'll come back to get you later. I promise."

Outside, Alyssa's screams had stopped. That probably meant their time was almost up. Danielle hurriedly searched the compartment, trying to find one last thing to do. She spotted a Potions textbook on the seat, and flipped to the page on contraceptive potions. Smirking widely, she placed the open book on Malfoy's coat.

Dylan saw what she was doing and laughed. "That'll do it, I think."

"Are you sure that's enough?"

"It's the best we can do for now." Dylan surveyed their handiwork. "Let's go."

The two of them hurried away, effortlessly melting back into the dispersing crowd. Danielle distinctly heard people muttering something about, "all that commotion for nothing."

By the time they got back to their compartment, Alyssa had disappeared. Myrtle was sitting alone.

"Did you do it?" she asked eagerly.

"Yep," said Danielle. "What happened to Alyssa?"

"The lady with the food trolley brought her somewhere," Myrtle replied. "I don't know what happened after that."

Danielle and Dylan exchanged glances.

For the second time that day, a yell reverberated throughout the train, only this time it wasn't a cry of pain—it was a cry of rage. Olive had discovered their prank.

"CLARA ASHFORD!" a voice screeched, so loudly that Danielle was sure even the conductor could hear. "GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Danielle gulped. "She sure figured that out quickly, didn't she?"

Barely a second later, the door was thrust open and slammed against the wall. Olive Hornby stood in the entrance, looking angrier than Danielle had ever seen her. "Explain yourself!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her face had erupted in huge red boils. In one hand she held the fake wand and in the other she held the Potions textbook. Goliath the frog peeked out from where her purse hung on her shoulder.

"Er, hi, Olive," Danielle said feebly. "What's on your face?"

"I DON'T NEED TO BLOODY _TELL_ YOU WHAT'S ON MY FACE! YOU ALREADY KNOW, DON'T YOU, YOU LITTLE—"

"Miss Hornby," said a firm voice from behind her. "I am afraid I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voice."

Olive spun around to face Riddle. "Do you see what she _did_ to me?" she hissed.

"I do," Riddle said calmly. "Miss Ashford isn't entirely blameless. However—"

"She stole my wand and replaced it with this!" Olive jabbed the joke wand in his face.

"No, she didn't," Myrtle piped up, in a last-effort attempt to save Danielle.

"Then what's sticking out of her pocket?" Olive strode over to them and pulled her wand out of Danielle's pocket. Danielle had completely forgotten she still had it.

"There!" Olive crowed. "Proof that it was her!"

"It was me," Dylan said quietly. Everyone turned to look at him. "I switched the wands and then told Clara I'd found it in the hallway. Goliath is my frog. I did everything. Clara had nothing to do with it."

Danielle gaped at him.

" _You_ did it?" spluttered Olive.

Dylan nodded.

"As much as I take pleasure in this touching display," said Riddle, an edge to his voice, "I still have to report you both to the Headmaster. The wand was, after all, found in Miss Ashford's pocket."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Stop looking for excuses to get me in trouble, Riddle. You might be a Prefect, but that doesn't give you an excuse to act as if you're the Minister of Magic—"

"You are a Prefect as well, Miss Ashford," Riddle said, then added, "Although how exactly you became one is beyond my understanding."

"How about you just go away?" Dylan offered. "You and Hornby both."

To Danielle's _extreme_ surprise, Riddle turned to leave. "Meet me on the platform once we get to London, Miss Ashford," he said flatly, and left.

"If I can't get these boils off my face before we arrive in London, Ashford, I swear, you'll wish you died along with your parents," Olive spat. Then she was gone too.

"I can't believe it," Danielle said, stunned. "They _both_ actually listened to you."

Dylan laughed. "I can't believe it either."

* * *

Alyssa came back fifteen minutes later, looking disgruntled. "That was a wasted half hour of my life," she said, flopping on the seat beside Danielle.

"What happened?" Dylan asked.

"Well, first I was poked, prodded and thoroughly investigated by the trolley lady—whose name I still don't know, by the way—and when she couldn't find anything wrong with me, she let me go." Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Bloody hell."

Myrtle gasped. "You're not allowed to swear!" she said, looking around the compartment as if Dippet himself were listening to their conversation.

Alyssa ignored her. "So what happened with you?"

Danielle quickly explained what they'd done in Olive's compartment and her finding out. "Dylan took all the blame for it, though," she finished, shooting him a grateful look. "I have no idea why."

Alyssa looked at her twin as if he had just announced he was going to breed dragons in Iceland. "Why would you take all the blame?" she asked him. "I wouldn't."

Danielle felt a twinge of surprise. She'd thought Alyssa would agree wholeheartedly with Dylan's decision to defend her.

"Clara's always been Hornby's target," Dylan replied. "I figured I might as well take the blame for once."

"I'm her target too," Alyssa said, looking rather put out. "But you never stand up for me."

To that, Dylan had no answer.


	14. Back in London

It was late evening when the train arrived in London. When Danielle stepped out onto the hazy platform, she was assailed by a crowd of witches and wizards poorly dressed as Muggles, waiting to greet their children. The first thing she noticed was how shabby and strained everyone looked. Even the young children had glum looks on their faces.

"Look, Clara! It's our parents!" Alyssa yelled in Danielle's ear after they'd gathered their things. "Come meet them."

"I have to meet Riddle," Danielle said, craning her head to look for him. "Do you know where he went?"

But her words fell on deaf ears; Alyssa had already run off. Danielle turned to Dylan standing beside her. "Have you seen Riddle?"

"No, sorry," Dylan said. He was looking at her almost expectantly.

Danielle frowned, confused. "What?" she asked. "Do you want me to wish you a happy Christmas and leave already?"

He laughed. "No—quite the opposite, in fact. I just wanted to say that it was no problem standing up for you."

"Dylan—" Danielle began, but she stopped short when Dylan leaned toward her. Before she even knew what was happening, his mouth was on hers and he was pulling her closer to him, oblivious to the crowd on all sides.

_What in the name of Merlin is he playing at_? Danielle thought wildly, struggling to pull away. _I already told him I didn't feel that way—_

He let her go a second later, a triumphant look in his eyes.

Danielle struggled to understand what was going on, shocked into silence. "You—I—what—"

"Clara! Dylan!" Alyssa shrieked from somewhere in the distance. Danielle turned to see her running up to them again. Following her were a man and a woman, both with the twins' vibrant red hair. Her cheeks burned. Had they seen Dylan's kiss?

"This is Clara Ashford," Alyssa was telling the couple. Luckily, judging by their expressions of merely polite interest, probably not.

Danielle introduced herself respectfully and took a step backward, suddenly eager to leave. She needed to be somewhere quiet to sort out her thoughts.

"Aren't you going to stay a bit longer?" Alyssa asked her.

"Sorry, I have to go. Have a happy Christmas." Danielle ducked behind a large, chattering family and managed to disappear into the crowd.

_Riddle, where the bloody hell are you when I need you?_ she grumbled to herself as she searched the crowd for a dark-haired figure. But he was nowhere to be seen.

She'd almost gotten to the other side of the platform when a hand grabbed her arm. She whirled around and felt, for the first time ever, relief at Riddle's presence. "Thank Merlin you're here," she muttered. "Let's go."

"Good evening to you too, Miss Ashford," Riddle replied. "You certainly took your time getting off the train."

"Yeah, well, I was busy."

"Embracing Mr MacDougal?"

Danielle looked up, her face turning red. "You saw?"

"Obviously." There was a hint of derision in his voice before he abruptly changed the subject. "We are meeting Mrs Cole at Platform 9. Muggles are not allowed to come in here." Now he sounded superior. Danielle felt a surge of anger.

Once they were in the main part of King's Cross, Riddle led her over to a tall, thin woman with a severe—though not unkind—expression. "Remember," he murmured under his breath, "The Muggles believe that we go to a boarding school for gifted individuals. You cannot afford slips of the tongue here."

"Thanks for the information, Riddle," Danielle hissed back. "Your deep and profound wisdom astounds me every day."

His jaw audibly clenched. It was probably taking all of his seemingly infinite willpower not to curse her right now. Danielle wondered how much longer it would be before he finally snapped.

By now they'd reached the woman, who strode forward to meet them. "You must be Clara Ashford," she said, reaching out her hand to Danielle. "Your headmaster told me all about you. I'm Mrs Cole, the head of Vauxhall Orphanage."

"It's nice to meet you too, ma'am," Danielle replied, shaking the woman's hand. She had a surprisingly strong grip. "I'm ever so glad that there was an available spot at the orphanage."

"Yes, you are lucky," Mrs Cole said as they began to walk toward the exit. "Mabel Longwood—you should remember her, Tom—just turned eighteen and left, so her room is available."

Riddle, who was walking a few paces behind them, merely grunted in response. Danielle resisted the childish urge to turn around and stick her tongue out at him.

"You should find the orphanage agreeable, Clara," Mrs Cole was saying. "Do you have much experience with young children? If so, you can help out with some of the other orphans."

"Unfortunately, I'm an only child, ma'am," Danielle said. "But I'm willing to learn." The memory of Andy tugged at her mind. She missed her little brat of a brother more than she could have thought possible, and wished he was here with her.

Mrs Cole beamed. "You seem like a very hardworking young lady. Perhaps while you're at it you could try to coax Tom out of his shell too. He's so…" she glanced quickly back at Riddle, "…quiet. I've been trying to get him to socialize with the other children for years, but no luck. Are the two of you close at school?"

"No," said Danielle, stifling a laugh. "In fact, I barely talk to him."

"Telling falsehoods already, Miss Ashford?" Riddle whispered in her ear. Danielle jumped, nearly knocking Mrs Cole over. Merlin, how on earth had he snuck up on her so fast?

Well, one thing was certain: this was going to be a long holiday.


	15. Vauxhall Orphanage

Luckily, Mrs Cole hadn't noticed Riddle and Danielle's exchange. She continued chattering on about the other orphans, their names, and their personalities. Danielle forced herself to pay attention, if only to distract herself from Riddle, who was just inches away from her.

A few minutes later they emerged out onto the street. It had turned sunny, and everyone seemed marginally happier out here. Danielle even noticed a young girl laughing and playing in the snow. She felt her spirits lifting already.

Mrs Cole led them over to a battered-looking black streetcar. Danielle wasn't sure if she would be allowed to sit in the front or not, so she dutifully slid into the backseat. To her discomfort, Riddle got in beside her. She wasn't sure why she felt so unnerved by him in enclosed spaces like this. It had been the same way in the train. Perhaps her mind subconsciously told her that if he tried to attack her, she stood a better chance of fleeing if she was in a wide open space, rather than closeted in a tiny car.

In the end, she kept one hand poised on the handle of the door the entire ride to the orphanage, just in case. Dumbledore wouldn't have let her leave Hogwarts if he felt it was too dangerous…right?

Vauxhall Orphanage was just as Danielle had imagined it: a tall, imposing brick building that looked as if it had been standing for centuries. The windows looked like dark eyes staring down at her, warning her to run away. It almost looked like Hogwarts, except it had none of the castle's warmth and cheer radiating from it.

But she shouldn't be so scared. She a) had nowhere else to go and b) it couldn't be _that_ bad. Besides, two weeks wasn't a very long time.

"Here we are," Mrs Cole announced far too cheerfully as they drove through the gates (more like the gates to a prison, Danielle thought sadly) and parked in front of a snow-covered fountain.

As they trudged up to the front doors, she noticed a group of ravens perched on one of the roof's spires. One squawked loudly and swooped down towards them, narrowly missing Danielle's head. She barely had time to duck. Was it some sort of omen? She glared at the offending bird as it scooped up something on the ground in its beak and flew back up to the others.

Riddle was smirking. Obviously he had watched the entire thing. _The arsehole, I bet he wouldn't be smirking like that if I kicked him right in the—_ Danielle thought furiously, but didn't get to finish her thought before the door swung open and Mrs Cole led them inside. She would save that satisfying fantasy for later.

The front entryway was long, narrow and tiled in black and white. Danielle caught a glimpse of several young, curious faces peering out of doorways at them before Mrs Cole turned right abruptly and guided them up a rickety staircase. "Your room is right up here, Clara," she said, pointing at a door. "Tom's room is just down the hallway—call him if you need anything. I expect you'll need time to unpack. Dinner is at six o'clock sharp. We'll introduce you to the rest of the children then and—"

"Mrs Cole?" a soft voice asked from behind Danielle. "I think Dennis's fever is coming back again."

Danielle turned to see a plain-looking girl with mousy brown hair and gray eyes wearing an ugly sort of tunic. Was this the uniform? She hoped not.

Mrs Cole sighed. "Again? Well, I suppose you'd better bring him some medicine, Amy, or get him some water."

The girl, Amy, nodded. She stared curiously at Danielle for a second, giving her a weak smile, before looking over at Riddle.

The change was perceptible. A small gasp escaped the orphan girl's mouth before she ducked her head and ran down the stairs as if she expected to be pursued.

Danielle glanced over at Riddle. He met her gaze coolly, raising his chin slightly as if daring her to ask. A chill ran through her.

Mrs Cole seemed oblivious to this changed atmosphere. "That was Amy Benson," she said to Danielle. "She's your age. Her mother was taken advantage of, poor thing…"

Did that mean she was raped? Danielle shivered. And then having to grow up in an orphanage with Riddle…she couldn't think of many things that would be worse.

Speaking of Riddle, he had disappeared through one of the doors. Mrs Cole was gone too. It looked like Danielle was on her own. Sighing, she picked up her suitcase and pushed open her "new" bedroom door.

Wait…was this a bedroom, or a closet? She could barely turn around.

The walls were painted stark white and there were several floorboards sticking up. An old wardrobe stood in the corner, its paint brown and flaky. A tiny window let in a minimal amount of light. Pushed against the opposite wall was an iron bedstead, similar to the ones they used at St. Mungo's.

 _A start contrast to the dormitories at Hogwarts,_ Danielle thought dryly, dumping her suitcase by the wardrobe and sitting on the hard, uncomfortable bed. She could see a spider weaving its web on the ceiling above her.

To distract herself from this dreary room and the way Riddle had looked in the hallway, she thought of the most recent happenings between her and Dylan.

She could still feel his lips against hers, warm and soft. She'd always imagined her first kiss in a secluded place, under the stars at Hogwarts maybe. Not in a crowded train station with hundreds of witnesses…and certainly not with Dylan.

Absent-mindedly tracing her lips with her fingers, Danielle wondered how their relationship stood now. Dylan was probably waiting for her to embrace him with open arms, but was that really what she wanted? Alyssa would kill them both. Dumbledore had warned her to "not get too close" to anyone here. Those were all solid reasons for her to reject Dylan, for good this time.

But on the other end of the spectrum, did she want to hurt Dylan like that? Aside from Alyssa, Dylan was her best friend in this time. She would alienate him even more if she firmly rejected his advances. And…Dylan was a good person. Perhaps Danielle could learn to fall in love with him. Besides, she _wanted_ a boyfriend. Her mind shied away from his kiss, but her body wanted him to kiss her again. Was that so bad?

Danielle flopped back onto her bed, head spinning. She was exhausted. Today had been a hectic and crowded day. She needed to sleep before dinner, or she knew she wouldn't be able to drag herself from this room.

Her watch said it was five o'clock. That was enough time to have a quick nap. If she could even get to sleep on this damned mattress…

* * *

_In her dream, Danielle was back in the future, sitting in her living room. Her parents were sitting on the couch across from her, her father's arm around her mother's shoulders. Mrs Bailey's stomach was huge and round. She was pregnant._

_The dream wavered in and out of focus. Everything was so detailed, down to the checkered print on Mr Bailey's sweater. Danielle's dreams usually weren't this clear._

_Her parents were talking urgently. "…keep her safe," her mother was saying._

_"But Paris is so far away," said Mr Bailey. He cast a worried glance over at Danielle. She noticed she was holding a stuffed teddy bear, and her hands were tiny. Was this taking place in the past?_

_"It's the only way," Mrs Bailey replied. She rested a hand on her enormous stomach. "He killed—"_

_But before she could finish her sentence, the door to the room swung open and a boy with black hair and hazel eyes peered in. He looked about five. "Mummy," he began, "There's someone outside."_

_"Is there?" Mrs Bailey asked. She awkwardly stood up and drew the curtains. Her face turned white. "Robert!" she gasped._

_Her father was up in a flash. Danielle felt herself being lifted up. "Go!" he yelled, though it wasn't clear who he was talking to. "Disapparate!"_

_The room started to spin, and then everything went black._

* * *

When Danielle opened her eyes, she was lying on the floor. Pain wracked through her entire body and her legs were tangled up in the sheets. She'd fallen off the bed.

Swearing, she managed to stand up and throw the sheets back onto the bed. That had been the strangest dream…seeing her parents so clearly made her heart hurt all over again. She wasn't even at Hogwarts now. She was in a strange orphanage in war-torn London, where the only person she knew was a possible psychopath.

Danielle would have laughed had she not been in such pain. Rubbing the Quaffle-sized lump on her head, she looked at her watch again. It was five fifty-five. She was just in time for dinner then.

There was an abrupt knock on the door. "Miss Ashford, Mrs Cole would like to see you downstairs," came Riddle's voice.

"I'm coming," Danielle groaned, opening the door. "Does she have some sort of Muggle medication for bruises?"


	16. Injured Pride

Downstairs, Danielle and Riddle were greeted by at least fifty other glum, miserable faces sitting around a long wooden table. The orphans, who seemed to range in age from toddlers to teenagers, all stared at Danielle. She noticed with displeasure that they _were_ all sporting the ugly gray tunic Amy Benson had been wearing. Except for Riddle, of course. What excuse had he made to get out of _that?_

"Here we are, Clara," Mrs Cole said, appearing out of nowhere to smooth down Danielle's clothes as if she were a baby. "I left a uniform in your wardrobe, but no matter," she muttered before clearing her throat. Children," she announced to the room at large, "This is Clara Ashford, and she will be staying here for the Christmas holidays. I hope you will all do your best to make her feel welcome."

There was a general mumble of "Good evening, Clara" but most of the orphans seemed more interested in the food a young woman was doling out onto their plates.

Danielle slipped into the nearest empty seat, between Amy Benson and another boy about her age with brown hair.

"Hi, Amy," she said to the girl, who was staring at her. "I'm Clara."

"I know," Amy replied. "Mrs Cole just told us."

Danielle blushed. "Er, so, how old are you?"

"I just turned sixteen," said Amy. She picked up her fork and stabbed a bit of food that somewhat resembled a potato.

"Interesting," said Danielle, looking down at the food on her own plate. "I'm not sixteen till April."

"Neither is Dennis," said Amy. She pointed at a blond boy sitting on her right. He looked over at Danielle, but his face showed no expression.

"What day were you born?" Danielle asked, feeling uncomfortable.

"April the thirteenth," Dennis said. His voice was unusually high-pitched for a boy.

"You're two days older than me then," Danielle said, smiling weakly. Dennis merely grunted and went back to eating.

Amy didn't seem to want to continue the conversation, so Danielle turned to the brown-haired boy on her other side. He raised his head when he felt Danielle's gaze on him. She felt a peculiar jolt when their eyes met. "Hello," he said politely. "I'm Billy Stubbs. I know who you are, don't worry," he said as Danielle opened her mouth. "Welcome to the worst place on Earth, or as you know it, Vauxhall Orphanage."

She couldn't help but laugh. "It's not that bad…"

"So, how'd you wind up here? Word has it you're at the asylum where Riddle goes," Billy continued. "We've all been taking bets on whether you're mad or not."

"Don't worry, I'm not mad in the least," Danielle assured him. "But Riddle…there's a different story."

"Tell me about it. Everyone here, even Mrs Cole, is scared of him. He's…odd. When I was little—" Billy stopped abruptly. Across the table, Riddle's gaze was fixed on them.

Danielle lowered her voice. "Tell me about it later, okay?"

"Sure thing." Billy smiled widely at her. Another tug on Danielle's heartstrings. _Merlin_. Was she attracted to a Muggle boy? It sure felt like it.

* * *

After dinner, Danielle followed the rest of the orphans to bring her plate into a tiny, overheated kitchen where they washed and dried the cutlery. "I feel like _Oliver Twist_ ," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth to Billy. _That was a Muggle book, right?_

Luckily, he laughed. "That's one of my favourite books. So is _A Christmas Carol."_

Danielle nodded. That was by the same author, right? She had fuzzy memories of the books sitting on her Muggle grandparents' shelf long ago…

"Want to come up to my room and see them?" Billy was asking. He looked so hopeful it made Danielle's heart ache. He obviously didn't have many friends. And plus, he was very good-looking…

"Of course," she agreed. "I love reading."

"Me too!" Billy exclaimed. He beckoned for her to follow him up the stairs and into a room which, she saw, was next to Riddle's.

Billy's room looked much the same as hers, only he had tried to make his cheerier; the window was flung open and there were stacks of books everywhere. Danielle nearly upset a heap as she walked in.

"Careful!" said Billy, rushing to straighten the dangerously wobbling pile. "Tread cautiously."

The only space in the room that wasn't covered by books was his bed. Danielle hopped onto it and sat cross-legged. She noticed an old, peeling photograph taped onto the wall. Closer inspection revealed it to be a rabbit.

"Was that yours?" she asked, pointing at the picture.

Billy's face immediately darkened. "Yes," he said, selecting a book and sitting down beside her. "Barney was my best friend when I was eleven."

"Is he still alive?" Danielle asked cautiously.

"No," Billy said harshly. "He lived in the attic, and one day when I went up, he was hanging from the rafters, dead."

A wave of nausea balled up in Danielle's stomach. "That's…horrible," she said weakly.

"I know," her new friend said viciously. "He always denied it, but we all know exactly who killed him."

 _Tom Riddle._ The name hung in the air, unspoken. Danielle closed her eyes. Here it was— _proof_ of Riddle's wickedness. He'd killed Billy's rabbit just because they'd gotten into a fight when he was eleven. What would he do if he got into a real fight _now?_

Danielle realized that Billy was still staring morosely at the picture. She tentatively reached over to pat his shoulder. "You'll buy another rabbit someday, though, right?"

He nodded. "You're not allowed to have pets here once you turn thirteen though…so Barney would have had to go anyway."

 _That's a stupid idea. Where do the animals go then? In the stew?_ Danielle wouldn't be surprised.

There was a tremendous crash from the next room. Danielle and Billy both jumped up. This time Danielle really _did_ trip over a pile of books. She landed flat on her face, feeling something crack in her nose as pain shot through her entire body.

"Clara!" she dimly heard Billy cry. She felt him kneel down beside her, but she couldn't lift her head for the pain. Her face felt like it had been ripped right off. There was a wet, sticky substance gushing from her nose.

"Oh my god!" Billy gasped. "Clara's hurt—someone help!" he yelled.

Danielle managed to open her eyes in time to see a fountain of blood pouring from her nose, soaking the ivory pages of Billy's prized books with crimson. Grimacing in pain, she lifted her hand to her face, trying to stop the flow. Her hand immediately turned red. Breaking her nose after she'd been at the orphanage barely two hours—what would Dumbledore say to _that_?

"What happened to her?" a low, urgent voice that wasn't Billy's said from above her.

 _There's Riddle, faking worry again._ Danielle opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, but blood from her nose was dripping down into her throat and she couldn't speak.

"Go away, Tom," Billy said warningly. Danielle wanted to thank him, but her eyes had scrunched shut from the pain. She felt like she was about to faint.

"You called for help," Riddle replied evenly, with an undertone to his voice Danielle was sure she had never heard before, as incapacitated as she was at the moment. It wasn't just hatred, it was pure _loathing_. "Would you like me to leave you alone?"

Billy appeared to have no answer to that. Someone—obviously Riddle—gripped Danielle by the shoulders and turned her over. _No, don't do that, you imbecile, that'll only make it worse—_ More blood trickled down into her mouth and she began coughing. Tears streamed down her face.

Roughly, Riddle pushed her up into a sitting position and then pulled her into his arms, standing up as he did so. Danielle was in too much pain to protest. This was the second time he'd had to carry her to safety. Only this time, she was conscious.

Nobody stopped them in the hallway and Billy didn't follow them. Riddle carried her into another bedroom and laid her down on the bed. "Go away," Danielle managed to choke out, opening her eyes and spitting a glob of blood onto the floor. She was pleased to see she'd gotten blood all over his crisp white shirt.

"This is my room, Miss Ashford. That is my bed you are currently pouring out your life's blood on. If anything, I should be telling _you_ to go away."

Was it just her, or did he look almost _amused_? Danielle wanted to scream. Riddle pulled his wand out and pointed it at her. For one wild second she thought he was going to kill her, but he merely said " _Episkey_ ", flicking his wand lazily.

The flow of blood from Danielle's nose instantly stopped. She felt suddenly hot, then cold. There was a loud _crack_ as her nose rearranged itself back into its normal position.

She sat up, testing out her now-healed nose. "Why did you do that?" she demanded, glaring up at Riddle. "We're not allowed to use magic outside of school, _remember_?" The last word was said sarcastically.

Riddle waved his wand again and all traces of blood disappeared. "I cast an Undefinable Location Charm on the premises," he said. "The Ministry of Magic won't hear about this."

"But—but that's illegal!"

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather I have let you die?" he asked unfathomably. "There isn't a Muggle hospital for miles around here, and everyone else has gone caroling. You, I, Stubbs, Benson and Bishop are the only ones here."

"Bishop?" Danielle asked confusedly.

"Dennis Bishop," Riddle said, his lip curling. "I seriously doubt him or Benson would have gone out of their way to aid you. And Stubbs is more worried about his books than any injury you might suffer—"

"That's not true!" Danielle said furiously.

"Then why isn't he here now?"

"He…" But she had no answer, and Riddle knew he had won. He surveyed her with an annoying superiority.

"Wait—did you say everyone went _caroling_?" Danielle asked in spite of herself.

"Yes. However, many of the older ones do not go, for obvious reasons."

Danielle frowned. "Then why didn't I hear them leave?"

Riddle's tone turned mocking. "You seemed too entranced in your conversation with Billy Stubbs to notice much. Poor Dylan MacDougal would be very upset if he knew."

Danielle blanched. "That's none of your business."

"It is if I have to hear Mr MacDougal whining about his delicate, broken heart for the next two years."

"Ugh—I'm leaving." Danielle stood up and made to go, but Riddle grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face him.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Miss Ashford?" he said, lowering his face to her level.

Danielle blinked rapidly. His eyes were hypnotic. And so _intense_ …"My pride?" she finally asked.

Riddle's perfect white teeth curved into a smile, or a grimace, depending on how you looked at it. "No, something else. You seem to be quite intelligent, Miss Ashford. You should figure it out."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." Danielle tried to make her tone sarcastic, but it came out more breathless than she'd intended.

"I just saved you, Miss Ashford." He pronounced the name slowly, carefully. Her head spun from his sudden mood change. "Isn't there something you'd like to say?"

While Danielle fought to control her scattered thoughts, Riddle gently touched her chin, his fingers skimming along her jawbone. Her skin burned at his touch.

"T—thank you," she finally stuttered, angry at herself for showing weakness to him. Riddle abruptly let go of her and turned away. "That's better. Good night," he said coldly.

Danielle took this as her signal to leave. Her face was burning as if he had seen her undressed. She couldn't keep up with his sudden mood changes.

And the worst part was, why couldn't she get the feeling of him touching her out of her head?


	17. This Burning City

On the way back to her room, Danielle peered in at Billy. He was kneeling on the floor with his bloodstained volumes. She remembered what Riddle had said about him caring more about books than anyone else, and wondered if he was right.

"Billy?" she asked quietly. He turned around and jumped up when he saw her.

"Clara! Are you all right? You look perfectly normal again—"

"I'm fine," said Danielle. "Ridd—er— _Tom_ helped me. It turns out it was just a bad nosebleed and it looked more dangerous than it really was."

Billy looked relieved. "Thank goodness. I thought you were seriously hurt."

Danielle shook her head. "I'm fine—but Billy," here she dropped her voice to a whisper, "you won't tell anyone, right? I don't want to be getting in trouble my first night here."

"Don't worry, Clara. Your secret is safe with me." He smiled. "You didn't ruin very many books anyway."

"I feel guilty, though. Listen—Christmas is in six days. I'll buy you every single book I destroyed." Danielle cast a glance past his shoulder into the room and tried to pick out the titles of the books she'd bled on.

"No, you don't have to, Clara." Billy tried to refuse. "I have tons of pocket money. I'll just go down to the bookstore tomorrow."

"I insist." She smiled at him. "You probably won't ever see me again after the holidays, so think of it as a goodbye present."

Billy continued to protest, but eventually Danielle wore him down, with a promise to let him show her around London the next day.

* * *

It was late by the time Danielle finally got to her room. Judging by the excited chatter coming from downstairs, the rest of the orphans had just gotten back. Danielle rummaged in her suitcase and changed into her pajamas before crawling into bed.

She'd thought she was exhausted, but lying in the musty-smelling bed, with not even a shaft of moonlight shining into the room, she found she was wide awake. Her mind kept going over the events of the evening, from Billy's rabbit to breaking her nose to Riddle saving her…why had he done that? Couldn't he have just let Billy aid her himself, even if it meant her eventually bleeding to death? Wasn't that what he wanted?

Danielle tossed and turned for hours, wondering, before she finally fell asleep.

* * *

_She had another strange dream that night. This time, she was sitting on the lawn outside her house, pulling up blades of grass in her chubby little hands and laughing. Like her previous dream, everything shimmered at the edges but yet was so clear._

_The front door opened and Mr Bailey stepped out, a worried expression on his face. "Danielle!" he called. "Where are you?"_

_She giggled, and Mr Bailey's face turned to one of relief. He hurried toward her. "Sweetie, you shouldn't be outside. It's dangerous."_

_The front door opened again and the same little boy in her previous dream with black hair came out. "Daddy, why are you outside with Danielle? We're in hiding, remember?"_

_Mr Bailey grabbed his daughter and quickly brought her inside, glancing nervously behind him as he shut the front door. "I remember," he told the boy. "She just escaped."_

_The boy laughed. "Can I escape too, Daddy?"_

_"No," said Mr Bailey. He held Danielle tighter. "She's too young, she doesn't know any better. You're almost six."_

_The boy looked disappointed but nodded and disappeared into another room. Mr Bailey put Danielle down, and like the last time, everything went black._

* * *

When she opened her eyes, weak sunlight was shining in through the window. Danielle lay still for a moment, trying to remember the dream. Could these possibly be old memories, somehow surfacing back up after thirteen years? That seemed likely. Everything was too lucid for it to be her mind's invention.

But who was the boy? Danielle was the oldest in her family. She didn't have an older brother. He couldn't be a cousin, as her parents were both only children. So who was he? And why were they in hiding?

Maybe he meant they were playing hide-and-seek. Danielle found relief in this thought. She would have to ask her father about it someday.

Once she'd gotten dressed into her uniform and hung up the Muggle clothes Dumbledore had given her in the wardrobe, it was nine o'clock. What time had Mrs Cole said breakfast was? Danielle couldn't remember.

She heard a door across the hall open and an eager voice said, "Hey, which room is that new girl's, Adam?"

"I think this one," another voice replied. "She doesn't look like an orphan, does she? She looks as though she's been pampered all her life."

Danielle moved closer to the door.

"They probably treat them better at that asylum up in Scotland than they do here," the first voice said. "Riddle looks a right lot better too."

"Do you s'pose they're dating?" the boy, Adam, asked. "He's always staring at her."

"No idea. I can't imagine anyone who would wanna date Riddle, though," the first boy said. Danielle heard their laughter echoing down the hall.

When she deemed the coast was clear, she opened the door and found herself face-to-face with Mrs Cole. "Ah, there you are, Clara," the matron said. "I was just about to get you for breakfast. And you're wearing your uniform! Excellent!"

She continued chattering, obviously in a good mood, as Danielle followed her downstairs unable to get a word in edgewise.

"…And Billy said he'd be happy to bring you around London today, so as long as you stay with him at all times you should be fine," Mrs Cole finished as Danielle took her seat between Amy and Billy himself.

"Where are you taking me today?" Danielle asked him once Mrs Cole had left.

Billy grinned. "I was thinking Hyde Park. The streetcar ride is only a couple of pence."

"Sure," Danielle said, relieved. The Muggle money Dumbledore had given her would leave only a few coins after she'd bought Billy's books.

"Oh, and Clara, I have enough money to buy us both lunch," he whispered. "That way we don't have to eat as much of this gruel."

Danielle laughed quietly. "Thank you, Billy. That sounds great."

"If we leave now, we don't have to do the dishes," he proclaimed, standing up. Danielle did the same, and the two of them quietly stole out of the room without anyone noticing they were gone…except for Riddle, whose watchful eye was almost permanently trained on Danielle these days.

* * *

After his pitiful excuse for a breakfast, Tom headed back up to his room, where he would undoubtedly spend the rest of the day. As he had plenty of homework to complete, he would not be left wanting for things to do.

He had just sat down on his bed with his Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook when movement from outside caught his eye. Ashford and that Muggle filth Stubbs were racing down the street, apparently oblivious to the fact that they were very nearly run over by several streetcars. _It would serve them right,_ Tom thought scornfully, turning back to his textbook. _The world would be much better with one less Muggle, and to be deprived of Ashford's presence would be a blessing._

It would cause him a great deal of relief, that was for sure. The girl was getting in the way of his plans more and more—she was a nuisance, taking up precious time and energy. Every time Tom thought of her (which was disturbingly often), instead he could be thinking of ways to overtake Hogwarts and carry out his plan. Eliminating Clara Ashford would make his life _so_ much easier.

But even he had to admit she did bring him amusement, derisive though it was. She would make a good little plaything, with that feisty temper and all. Tom recognized that, and approved. Perhaps it was her only redeeming quality.

There was something else, though. Something that went deeper than merely being amused by her. Tom had to admit that when he'd seen her kissing MacDougal after they'd gotten off the train. _Lust._ He hated the word—never, in all his life, had he believed that he would ever succumb to the pleasures of the flesh. He'd believed himself stoic. Women didn't affect him, until now. He needed to possess Ashford, if only to remind her of his power over him. He was nearly sixteen years old, after all—a time when most boys were getting themselves girlfriends and lusting after them. Tom realized that he was not free of this unfortunate occurrence completely. He didn't need a girlfriend—he just lusted after Clara Ashford, because his own body—not his mind—was betraying him. This was a weakness, one that could not be overcome quickly. The only thing for Tom to do was to give in for one time—make Ashford believe she was "special", and give his body what it wanted. It sickened him, appalled him beyond belief, but it was an unfortunate truth of being human. When Tom became Lord Voldemort, he would transform into something that did not need other people to give him pleasure. No human would conquer him.

Pleased by these reflections, he turned back to his book, pushing all thoughts of Clara Ashford out of his mind.

* * *

Years later, when she looked back on that day, Danielle thought that the time she spent with Billy was rather dream-like, existing only in her imagination. They spent at least half of the day at Hyde Park, simply talking and wandering around the paths. Billy was an energetic talker and a sympathetic listener. He told her about his family—his father had thrown himself from a train when Billy was three months old, and his mother, who had just discovered she was pregnant again, ran away. Billy was sent to the orphanage and nine months later his mother had died in childbirth. He had a younger sister, he said, though he had no idea who she was and he'd never met her. He transformed from an orphan to a regular boy in the space of a few hours. Danielle felt more at peace than she ever had when she was with him, despite her heart fluttering unevenly whenever he smiled at her.

It was late afternoon by the time they headed back to the orphanage. As they turned onto Vauxhall Road, Danielle spotted a tiny bookstore nestled in between a confectionary and a butcher's shop. "Wait here," she said to Billy. "I've got to go buy your Christmas presents."

Billy was perfectly happy to delay their return to the orphanage, and so waited patiently outside while Danielle went in.

The owner, an old, hunched Muggle man, easily picked out the books Danielle asked for and to her surprise dropped a leather diary in as well. "It's been sitting on my shelves for ages—I might as well let you have it for free," he told her.

Danielle thanked him, puzzling over it as she left the shop. It was a blank, perfectly ordinary diary—why was he so eager to get rid of it? Perhaps he thought it cursed. Well, at any rate, she might as well give it to Riddle as a Christmas present…a sort of thank-you for saving her life. He could write all his evil plans in it or something. As long as she didn't have to pay for it, she didn't really care.

When she arrived back outside, Billy had disappeared. She looked around for a minute, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Billy?" she called.

"Over here, Clara!" His voice came from an alleyway she hadn't previously noticed.

A small, pathetic whining faintly issued from somewhere close by.

Billy was kneeling in a pile of snow, cradling something in his arms. As Danielle got closer she saw it was a small black puppy, looking half starved.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Was it just left there?"

"I think so," said Billy. The puppy whined again, wagging its tail to greet her. "He won't survive for long if he stays here, that's for sure."

Danielle bit her lip and reached out her arms. Billy handed her the puppy, who began eagerly licking her face. "He's definitely cute," Danielle admitted. "But who do we bring him to? Er, how about the pound?"

"The pounds are overflowing this time of year," Billy said, standing up. "We'll just be turned away." He looked at Danielle with what she imagined was a pleading look.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Then there's only one thing to do."

"What?"

"Smuggle him into the orphanage."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Danielle and Billy arrived back at the orphanage, but this time with an obvious bulge in Billy's jacket.

"I could have done that and used 'I'm pregnant' as an excuse," laughed Danielle as they hurriedly climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

"Yeah, with the fastest-growing baby in history," Billy said. He nervously glanced behind them, but luckily they hadn't run into anyone.

Once they were safely in Billy's room, he opened his jacket and the puppy, who had been christened Barney, jumped out and sniffed about his new surroundings happily.

"Now you can't blame me for ruining your books," Danielle said.

Billy rolled his eyes. "Would it be too much to ask for you to go get some scraps or something from the kitchen? Say you're hungry and looking for a snack."

Danielle obliged, stopping to pat Barney on the way out. She stealthily made her way downstairs and snuck into the kitchen. The cook was nowhere to be seen, and she managed to pour a bowl of water and grab a cold piece of chicken destined for the garbage lying out on the counter without being caught.

On her way back upstairs, she was just congratulating herself on the success when a door on the landing opened and Riddle stepped out. Embarrassment covered Danielle's cheeks red, and she quickly tried to hide the food, but to no avail. Riddle spotted the items at once.

"Trying out a new way of eating, Miss Ashford?" he asked dryly. "Is cutlery not working for you?"

"You caught me," Danielle growled, and tried to push him out of the way. To her surprise, he stepped back.

"Off to see Billy Stubbs?" he asked quietly, dangerously. "I pray you had a good time today."

"We did, thank you," Danielle said. "Goodbye, Riddle." With that, she escaped into Billy's room and shut the door tightly behind her.

He looked up in surprise from where he was playing with Barney on the floor. "That was fast."

"There was nobody in the kitchen," Danielle replied. She set the bowl of water and chicken on the floor where Barney attacked it hungrily. "Riddle knows something's up, though."

Billy's eyes narrowed. "Did you see him?"

She explained their encounter on the stairs. Billy's eyes flashed with anger. "He's already gotten rid of one of my pets," he said furiously. "Over my dead body will he get rid of another."

They both looked down at Barney like parents guarding their newborn baby. Danielle ruffled Billy's hair comfortingly. "We won't let him," she said. "I'll make sure we don't."

* * *

After dinner that night, the two of them positively raced back up to Billy's room. Danielle's pockets were overflowing with food she'd surreptitiously stolen from her plate.

Barney was waiting eagerly for them on Billy's pillow. He let out a happy bark as they came into the room, his tail wagging with joy.

"Shhh!" Danielle scolded him as she set the food down. "You can't bark here, or we'll be in serious trouble."

Billy's face was strained. "There's no way I can keep him here for long anyway. Clara, would the asy—er— _school_ you go to allow dogs?"

Danielle shook her head. "No they don't. I'm sorry. Are you sure Mrs Cole won't make an exception for you?"

"Amy brought back a cat she'd found once, and Mrs Cole made her go back and leave it exactly where she'd found it. Her kindness doesn't extend to animals." Billy pulled Barney into his lap and stroked his ears.

Danielle sighed and pulled on a lock of her hair. "This would be _so_ much easier if I could use magic," she mumbled.

"Pardon?" Billy asked.

"I said this would be so much easier if Mrs Cole liked us more," Danielle said louder. She frowned at Barney, who had run to the door. "Does he want to go outside?"

"Probably," said Billy, still sounding glum. "Do you want to bring him outside?"

"Sure. Barney, come here," Danielle ordered. She gathered the puppy up in her arms and slipped him under her sweater. It didn't do a very good job of hiding him, but it would have to do.

A maid spotted Danielle as she raced downstairs, but she was gone before the maid had a chance to see her clearly. The rest of the orphans were in the front parlor singing Christmas songs, so the chance of being spotted by them wasn't very high.

Outside, it was freezing cold. Danielle shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she hopped from one foot to the other on the front porch, waiting for Barney to come back. Even though she couldn't see very far, she could just make out the puppy's form in the dim light from the building.

Behind her, the front door slowly creaked open. Danielle whirled around, teeth chattering, to see the figure of Riddle silhouetted in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I saw you running past my door and was inquiring to know what you were up to." Riddle stated this plainly, as if it was his duty to follow Danielle wherever she went.

She glared at him as an arctic breeze blew past them, sending her shivering again. "So you're stalking me now?"

Before he could answer, there sounded an agonized howl. "Barney!" Danielle cried, and began sprinting toward the source of the noise.

"Miss Ashford!" Riddle called after her, but she ignored him.

Barney sounded much farther away than Danielle last remembered seeing him. She ran towards where she hoped the gates to the orphanage were, disregarding the bitter wind piercing through her.

The puppy howled again. He sounded as if he was on the street somewhere. Sure enough, when Danielle's hand made contact with the iron gate, it was slightly open. She dashed though it and ran out onto the street, which was pitch black. Not a single light shone through the stores or even the houses along the road. Danielle couldn't see farther than her own hand.

"Barney!" she yelled again, but her cries were lost on the wind.

A hand grabbed her, and she exclaimed out loud, ready to slap whoever it was. "Quiet!" Riddle hissed, clapping a hand tightly over her mouth.

"Get—off—of—me!" Danielle tried to say, unsuccessfully attempting to force his hand away from her lips.

Barney let off a string of howls. Danielle went limp in Riddle's arms, and as soon as he loosened his hold she was off again, running down the street. He cursed aloud, and she heard his footsteps crunching in the snow as he came after her.

She'd almost gotten to the end of the street when something furry made contact with her feet. Danielle pulled the puppy right up into her arms. "Thank Merlin you came back, Barney," she cried out in relief, breathing in his familiar scent. "That's the last time you're going out without a leash."

"I could say the same thing for you," Riddle said from behind her. She whirled around. He hovered warningly, blocking her path. "Miss Ashford, you must understand, it's dangerous here—"

Before he could finish, or Danielle interrupt him, there came a strange wailing sound from close by. It chilled her bones even more than the cold and rendered her speechless. It sounded like a Muggle police siren turned up to full volume, only a thousand times eerier.

An air-raid siren. There was going to be an air raid.

_Crap._

"We have to get somewhere safe," Riddle said, taking her by the arm. Danielle couldn't see his face, but was that something like fear in his voice?

"The orphanage," she said at once, grasping Barney tighter.

"That is too far," replied Riddle. "It will not be long before it starts." And he started to run, pulling Danielle along with him. She had no choice but to follow him, with the siren echoing in her ears and deafening her.

They hadn't been running for long when Danielle could hear another noise: a low drone coming from somewhere in the distance. The airplanes.

"Where are you taking me, Riddle?" she screamed to him, though she wondered if he could hear her.

Riddle said something back, but she couldn't pick out his words over the droning getting louder. Barney struggled violently in her arms, trying to get free.

The frost was now beginning to catch up to Danielle. Her extremities were going numb and her shivers were rattling her entire body.

She looked up, and could see the headlights of the German planes flying over. There were one…two…ten…there had to be at least thirty airplanes. Fear pulsed through her, fear such as she'd never felt before. Silent tears flowed down her face.

A high-pitched screech filled her ears. " _Tom_!" she screamed, not realizing she was saying his first name. So fast she barely saw it happen, Riddle abruptly stopped and threw her to the ground. The second she hit the snow, the world exploded around her.

For a second, Danielle thought she had gone deaf, so loud was the sound of the bomb. It had landed somewhere very close. She shrieked, but there was no way her voice was discernible over the air raid siren, the airplanes, or the shattering of glass from wherever the bomb had hit.

Riddle was lying in the snow beside her, still clasping her arm. When the echo of the bomb had faded, he got to his feet. Danielle raised her head. His face was paler than usual, his eyes huge and dark, illuminated in the light of the planes. He held out a hand and helped Danielle up. For once, she didn't protest. She was shaking uncontrollably from both cold and terror.

Riddle saw this and shrugged off his jacket. "Here," he said shortly. "You will freeze if you don't warm up soon."

Too cold to care, she buttoned up his coat. It was at least three sizes too big but it lent warmth almost immediately.

It was only then she realized Barney was gone. "No!" she cried brokenly, knowing it was impossible to find him now.

Riddle had already begun to walk away. Feeling utterly broken and hopeless, Danielle jogged after him. He didn't turn but slowed down his pace.

They continued down the road a ways, Danielle listening in dread for the whistling sound that signaled a falling bomb. There were several explosions where the earth rumbled beneath her feet, but were never as close as the first one had been.

Riddle finally stopped at the base of a hill, his eyes searching the sky for planes. "It has stopped for now," he muttered. "That was short."

Danielle was trembling too hard to answer.

Riddle turned to her. "Miss Ashford?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

"No, of course I'm not all right," Danielle spat. "I'm caught in the middle of an air raid, I'm freezing to death, and Billy's puppy ran away! What makes you think I'd be all right?"

"I was merely asking," said Riddle evenly, but there was anger deep in his eyes.

"Well, stop _merely asking_ , then," Danielle said heatedly. She turned away from him.

Almost instantly, she felt Riddle seize her. "Do not even think about it," he warned.

"What?"

"You were thinking about running away," he said. "I will not be chasing childishly after you again."

Danielle tried to resist, but his grip was so strong she didn't have a hope of beating him this time.

Even though they had both been outside for a long period of time, Riddle's hands were still somewhat warm. How did that work? Nevertheless, Danielle was secretly glad that he was warming her up. His body heat transferred through to hers, and her aching shivers gradually slowed.

Just as she was starting to get back to normal, however, the wail of the air raid sirens could be heard in the distance again.

"In here," Riddle ordered. He let go of Danielle and dropped to his knees, brushing away a patch of snow with his bare hands. It eventually opened to reveal a small hollow in the bottom of the hill.

"How did you know that was there?" Danielle demanded.

"That is no matter." He waited for her to crawl into the small gap before climbing in himself. The temporary hiding place, composed of snow and frozen dirt, was hardly the largest or most comfortable shelter around. Nonetheless, it would give them more protection than standing outside would. That was the most important thing.

Danielle knew what to expect this time, but she couldn't help but quiver as she heard first the planes fly over, and then the distant but unmistakable sound of bombs raining down over the city.

She thought of Barney, alone outside in the frozen and threatening darkness, and began to cry.

Riddle didn't say anything, but stared straight ahead, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

Fifteen minutes into the raid, an acrid, burning smell reached Danielle's nose. She sniffled loudly. "Why is there smoke?"

"Fires," Riddle answered brusquely. He pointed outside. "Look."

Danielle moved forward and cautiously stuck her head out. The smell very nearly choked her.

It was no longer dark outside: everything was ablaze with light. All around them fires were raging; tongues of flame shooting up into the sky. The crackling noise sounded like a hundred campfires being lit at once. Danielle stared in the distance at London's skyline, whose buildings were almost completely obliterated by the blaze.

She couldn't take it anymore. She slumped back into the alcove, onto Riddle, and began to cry in earnest. He was clearly uncomfortable, but she paid no heed. She sobbed onto his chest, physically and mentally exhausted.

"Why?" she whispered over and over. "Why?"

Of course, Riddle didn't answer, but he shifted his position slightly to make her more comfortable. His face was unreadable.

The two of them stayed like that for the rest of the air raid, while all around them London burned.


	18. Breaking Point

The loud chirping of a bird was the next thing Danielle was aware of. She opened her eyes, wincing at the stabbing pain in her lower back.

It was early morning and the sky was a light gray. She was still collapsed against Riddle. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, looking more vulnerable than Danielle had ever seen him. They must have both fallen asleep without meaning to.

Silently, she took off his jacket and placed it beside him. It was now swelteringly hot in their little cave. Danielle stuck her head out to get some fresh air, reveling in the silence and the bird songs. It was nearly impossible to believe the atmosphere had been thick with death and destruction just hours before. Now it was peaceful and tranquil.

Speaking of peacefulness and tranquility, Riddle hadn't noticed Danielle wake up. She watched his sleeping form for a moment, wondering at how defenseless he was. It would be too easy to pick him off right now…but she didn't have her wand—it was back at the orphanage, and besides, killing Tom Riddle was probably on Dumbledore's list of things _not_ to do.

Without thinking, Danielle moved noiselessly toward him and gently brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead. This gave her an odd sort of pleasure, touching him. It made her want to do it again and caress his face as he had done with hers.

But those thoughts were forbidden. She mustn't think about him that way. In fact, she had no idea why she was even dwelling on it.

Slumping back into a corner, Danielle pulled her knees up to her chest and blew a curl out of her eyes, watching Riddle warily. She speculated how long it would be before he woke up. Perhaps even _she_ would have to wake him up. Something told her that wasn't a good idea, however.

With a quiet _beep_ , her watch informed her that it was eight o'clock. Mrs Cole would be frantic…if she'd even noticed they were gone. Perhaps when they got back they could pretend as if they'd been there all along.

"Riddle?" Danielle finally whispered against her better judgment, waiting with bated breath. He didn't stir.

She tried a little bit louder. "Riddle!" Still no response.

Rolling her eyes, Danielle crawled over to him and positioned her face right above his. Ridiculously, her heart was pounding. "Tom Riddle, wake up this instant!"

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes slowly opened. "Miss Ashford?" he asked, sounding slightly dazed.

Danielle sat back on her heels, relieved he didn't try to kill her. "Yeah," she answered. "Who else would it be?"

Riddle didn't respond to that; instead he sat up and put on his jacket. "What time is it?"

"Just after eight. Do you think Mrs Cole will have noticed we're gone?"

His eyes flashed up to hers briefly before answering. "Yes."

Danielle swore under her breath. Riddle brushed dirt off of his clothes before climbing out of the cavern. "Hey, wait for me!" she called, following after him.

The birds continued merrily tweeting as the two of them set off for the orphanage. Danielle felt a kind of hope, until she remembered that there could be another air raid at any time. Her heart sank.

"Are there—er—usually air raids during the day?" she asked cautiously, then immediately regretted it. She was supposed to know this, for Merlin's sake! Marion and Roger Ashford had been killed in an air raid! How thick could she get?

"Occasionally," Riddle replied, raising one eyebrow.

Danielle hesitated before asking her next question. "Are you…are you afraid when it happens?"

Riddle looked down at her, his eyes intently searching her face. She tried to make her expression puzzled but polite. "Are _you_ afraid?" he countered.

"That's a stupid question," she mumbled. "Judging by my behavior last night…"

"You lost people you…" (here his face contorted slightly) "… _loved_ in an air raid. You have a right to be afraid."

Danielle bit her lip. _I never thought of that before…good excuse._ "I wasn't always scared of them," she quickly invented. "When I was little, I used to think it was an adventure."

"Typical behavior," Riddle said softly. He sounded almost disapproving.

Uncomfortably, Danielle stuffed her hands into her pockets and didn't speak for the rest of the walk.

* * *

Of course, Mrs Cole was absolutely beside herself when Danielle and Riddle arrived back at the orphanage. She immediately ushered them into her private study, where she proceeded to lecture for ten minutes about the dangers of air raids and how it was crucial that she knew where they were at all times.

Danielle pretended to be remorseful for her actions, but beside her, Riddle had gone as still as a statue. She could sense fury slowly building up inside him at the fact that a Muggle was punishing him.

But before she could do something to save Mrs Cole from whenever Riddle snapped, the head sent him out of the room, claiming she wanted to speak to Danielle privately.

Confused, Danielle sank back into her chair. Had she done a poor acting job?

But Mrs Cole's expression was more questioning than reproachful now. "Clara," she began, pouring herself a glass of gin, "I'm going to tell you a story, and I want you to listen very closely."

"All right, ma'am," said Danielle, baffled.

"Almost sixteen years ago, on New Year's Eve, I was attending to the children when a young woman staggered up to our door. She was barely younger than I was then, around nineteen, with a plain face and a haggard expression. She was also extremely pregnant."

Mrs Cole paused to finish off her glass. "We get those often, you know, so it wasn't out of the ordinary. What _was_ odd was that she wouldn't stop talking about how she was cursed and how her unborn baby was cursed. She said there was an ancient affliction that ran in her family, and her only hope for her baby was that if it grew up here, it would be able to escape the curse's effects and lead a normal life." She gulped down her second glass of gin. "We all thought she was crazy, you know—and that I'm certain she was. Within an hour of her arrival here, her son was born. 'I want him to be named Thomas Marvolo Riddle,' she said. 'His papa's name, except for Marvolo—that's my father.' Well, we brought the baby in to see her, but just as she took him in her arms she died."

Danielle wasn't sure what her expression was, but it must have been interesting because Mrs Cole chuckled. "That's what I looked like too," she hiccupped. "The baby wasn't even crying. Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised…"

"What was her name?" Danielle asked.

"Merope," said Mrs Cole. "Merope Gaunt, she said. An odd name for an odd girl. Perhaps she was from the circus. I sometimes wonder if she'd been telling the truth about that curse after all…"

"Did she say why her family had the curse?" Danielle pressed, unaware she was leaning forward. "Or what it meant?"

"Just that it affected everyone in her family because she was a descendent of…" Mrs Cole frowned through her gin-induced haze. "I don't exactly remember, but I think it started with an S. And she never said what it did. She just hoped that if her child grew up away from her family, it could somehow escape the curse."

Danielle nodded slowly. "And this son she had—that's Riddle?"

"Tom, yes," Mrs Cole nodded. "The point of the story is, Tom comes from an abnormal family (at least on his mother's side) whether he knows it or not. Whether or not this curse exists, I want you to be careful. His track record isn't exactly the best. Staying out with him the entire night during an air raid is not exactly what I'd call… _safe._ "

"Well, I assure you I'm fine so far, ma'am," Danielle assured her.

Mrs Cole looked relieved. "Good, good. I just don't want you to turn out like poor Merope Gaunt." She gave Danielle a knowing look.

All of a sudden, Danielle knew what she was getting at. Mrs Cole thought that Riddle had gotten her pregnant. "Everything's very well, ma'am," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks burn.

Mrs Cole reached over, rather tipsily, and patted Danielle on the arm. "I'm glad to hear that."

Danielle coughed nervously and stood up. "Well, er, thank you for the story, Mrs Cole."

The matron smiled up at her. "You're quite welcome, Clara. I just want you to be careful."

Danielle turned around and was about to leave when a question suddenly occurred to her. "Mrs Cole…" she asked hesitantly, "Did Tom…what did he do to Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop?"

The matron regarded her for a moment. There was nothing hazy in her expression at all now. "I don't know," she finally said. "But they've never been the same again."

As soon as she got back her room, Danielle grabbed her wand and let its familiar warmth spread through her fingertips, feeling relief pulse through her. She'd been afraid it would get lost somehow. _That's the last time I ever leave it,_ she thought.

She knew it was time now to go see Billy and tell him what had happened with Barney, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Would he be mad at her? Would he be mad at Riddle? He'd said "He's already gotten rid of one of my pets…over my dead body will he get rid of another."

Suddenly nervous, Danielle raced to Billy's room. She was afraid he would try to attack Riddle when he found out. She had to be there, because otherwise, Riddle would destroy him.

But there was nobody in Billy's room. Worried now, she hurried downstairs and asked the maid in the kitchen if she'd seen Billy Stubbs.

"Yes, just about five minutes ago I saw him go outside with Tom Riddle," the maid answered from where she was sweeping the floor.

Her worst fears confirmed, Danielle darted back up to her room to grab her coat before running back downstairs, nearly knocking into several children on her way.

The two figures standing by the fountain outside were visible as soon as she stepped outside. Riddle, with his dark hair and pale skin, looked somewhat like a vampire leering over Billy, who was much shorter than he. Danielle couldn't quite hear their conversation from the front steps, but she crept closer until their voices became audible.

"…pets are against the rules at this orphanage," Riddle was saying. His back was to Danielle. "So why did you explicitly smuggle a dog into your room?"

"He was starving, alone, and cold," Billy said, not quite able to keep the fear out of his voice. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Leave it there, of course," Riddle replied. "Nature will eventually take care of it."

"That's cruel," said Billy. He sounded angry now. "You have no heart, Riddle."

"Perhaps I do not," Riddle agreed. "But there is a difference between having no heart and being logical."

"How is leaving a starving puppy to die logical? That's—"

"Silence. I will not have this conversation with you any longer. You should consider yourself fortunate that I will not tell Mrs Cole."

Riddle started to turn around and Danielle poised herself to flee, but Billy burst out with, "You act like you don't care about anything, Riddle, but you do! You care about Clara. And Clara wanted Barney too."

Riddle stopped dead. Danielle wished she could see his face. "Miss Ashford is purely an acquaintance," he said coldly. "It matters not to me what she thinks."

"That's not true," Billy said furiously. "I see the way you look at her. You care about her, Riddle, even if you don't want to face it—"

In an instant, he was standing threateningly over Billy. "Do not mention her to me ever again. Do you understand?"

"You'll realize it soon enough," Billy continued. "And I feel sorry for her. Because I'm sure—it's better to be hated by you than to be loved by you."

Riddle had finally snapped. His wand was out, the tip pressing against Billy's throat. He was shaking with anger. "You filthy Muggle, you will pay for—"

Without thinking about the consequences, without thinking about the fact that she was about to perform underage magic in front of a Muggle, Danielle raised her wand. " _Expelliarmus_!" she shrieked, pointing her wand at Riddle. There was a flash of light and his wand flew out of his hand. " _Accio Riddle's wand_!" she continued before he could react. His wand came soaring toward her and she caught it expertly.

For a second, Riddle stared at her with shock visible on his features, but he quickly masked it. "Give me back my wand, Miss Ashford," he said calmly.

"No," Danielle answered. "Leave Billy Stubbs alone."

"Give me back my wand," Riddle said again, more dangerously this time. There was a feverish, unnerving light in his eyes that wasn't humanlike in the least.

"If Billy was right, you won't hurt me, Tom," Danielle cooed. "You don't know it, but you care about me—"

But she was provoking him even more. Ignoring a now white-faced Billy, Riddle strode towards her, a peculiar red glow beginning to replace the dark blue of his eyes. "Give it back now, and there will not be another word spoken about this," he hissed.

His eyes weren't a trick of the light; there was definitely a reddish glow about them. _"She wouldn't stop talking about how she was cursed and how her unborn baby was cursed,"_ Mrs Cole had said. Well, judging by the look of Riddle at the moment, Merope Gaunt had been right.

"Leave me alone, Riddle," Danielle said nervously, beginning to back away. She prayed anyone—even the Minister of Magic come to expel her from Hogwarts—would arrive and save her.

A sharp pain sliced through her skull, and she cried out. Riddle's face had twisted in rage, and it was the face of a demon, the devil himself. Déjà vu swirled up in Danielle's mind—she had seen that face before. But where?

"You cannot escape me, Miss Ashford," Riddle said, his tone mocking. "I will find you every time—find and defeat you!"

"Stop—you're cursed—you don't know what you're doing!" Danielle said. She raised both wands and pointed them at him.

Riddle laughed, a high-pitched, cruel laugh. Again, déjà vu hit Danielle. "What is stopping me from killing you now, Miss Ashford?" he asked. "You think I care for you—I do not! I care for nothing and no one!"

Danielle's back banged up against a wall; she was trapped. Riddle slowly advanced on her. "No one will ever dare to mock me again, when I become all-powerful, the eternal and immortal Lord Voldemort!"

Shock ripped through Danielle's body and she very nearly dropped the wands. "I—you're Voldemort!" she gasped. Why hadn't she realized before? She was so stupid—Tom Riddle grew up to become Voldemort! Of course…she should have realized it the second she saw him.

"Scorn me again, Clara Ashford," Riddle hissed. He was close now—too close. His scarlet eyes were burning into hers, cutting straight down into her soul. "I dare you."

Danielle could not speak. Her hands were limp, her eyes wide. Riddle reached her and grabbed her wrists with his long, pale fingers, pinning them to the wall. "There we go," he unexpectedly crooned, a warped smile coiling on his features. "Submission. That's what I like to see."

_I'm not submitting to you,_ Danielle tried to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. Riddle's body was pressed hard against hers, so hard it almost hurt. Her skin burned with heat. She couldn't think properly.

Still holding her against the wall, Riddle took one hand and snatched both wands from her hands. She was completely powerless. "How do you feel, Clara?" he asked. "How does it feel to know that you are under my control now? I can do anything I want with you."

"No," she managed to say, but her voice was hardly louder than a mouse's squeak.

Riddle laughed harshly. "Of course, I will not kill you straight away. You're far too pretty to be wasted for that." As he had done before, he stroked her face. But this time it wasn't pleasant at all—it was a symbol of his power over her. With a sudden burst of anger, Danielle slapped his hand away.

"Insubordinate. You should have been in Gryffindor," Riddle sneered. "But that's no matter—eventually you will learn to not defy me."

_Someone, anyone, save me, help me, I don't care what happens, just please!_ Danielle screamed in her head.

Riddle placed his warm hand on the base of her throat, where her pulse beat frantically. "It will be interesting," he said, "when I finally learn your secrets. Look at me!"

Danielle shut her eyes as tightly as she could. This was it. It was over. She was done for.

Just when she'd given up all hope, a crack resounded throughout the grounds. Her eyes flew open and Riddle's head spun around.

Albus Dumbledore was marching toward them. He had his wand out, and it was pointed straight at Riddle. He had a ferocity in his eyes that struck both fear and awe into Danielle's heart. "Let go of her, Mr Riddle," he commanded.

As if Dumbledore's voice was a switch, the red glow in Riddle's eyes disappeared and his features morphed back into their usual expression. He released his hold on Danielle, who slumped to the ground.

"Don't move," Dumbledore ordered Riddle, who seemed frozen in place. "Are you all right, Miss Ashford?"

The world had started spinning around Danielle. She blinked several times, trying to refocus. "I…" she began, but it was no use. Everything was turning black. Her eyes rolled back up into her head, and she fainted.


	19. After Effects

The low hum of voices was what brought her back. Dumbledore was talking to Mrs Cole. _No_ …he shouldn't be here…it was dangerous…she'd ruined everything…

"Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked her. Cringing, Danielle opened her eyes.

She was in her room, lying flat on her bed. The faces of Dumbledore and Mrs Cole hovered over her.

"She's awake," Mrs Cole said, relieved. "How are you feeling, Clara?"

"Sore," Danielle mumbled, reaching up a hand to rub her forehead. "How long was I out for?"

"About an hour," said Dumbledore. He looked more solemn than Danielle had ever seen him. "You have several bruises, but you should be fine." With a quick incline of his head to Mrs Cole, she slipped out of the room.

Danielle sat up straighter in bed, her hands tightening around the covers. "Where's Riddle?" she began as soon as the door had shut. "Where's Billy? I used underage magic—will I be expelled from Hogwarts? What—"

"One question at a time, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. "I managed to sort things out with the Headmaster and the Ministry. You will not be expelled from Hogwarts; however, you _will_ receive a warning." He handed Danielle a crumpled piece of paper, which she didn't even bother to open. "As for Mr Stubbs, I modified his memory so he has no idea the incident ever happened. At present, he is quite well, and anxious to see you."

Relief swept through Danielle. "He's all right then. But…what about…"

"Mr Riddle?" Dumbledore asked, his face turning grave again. "He is fine at the moment."

"Fine?" Danielle blurted. "He is not _fine_! He tried to kill me!"

"Miss Ashford…Mr Riddle does not appear to remember the incident."

Danielle, about to launch into an angry tirade, stopped short. "What?"

Dumbledore looked at her seriously. "I was questioning him earlier. He has no memory of what happened."

"But—that's impossible!" Danielle said. "How does he not remember? Sir, are you sure he's not lying?" _He is Voldemort, after all._

"Trust me when I assure you he is telling the complete and utter truth," Dumbledore said. "The last thing he remembers is speaking to Mr Stubbs at the fountain."

"Well, I hope you told him what happened!"

"I did, though I under exaggerated quite a bit," said Dumbledore. "With his…with the way he acted, it is best he knows as little as possible. He was not surprised; however, he was remorseful."

"No he wasn't," Danielle disagreed. "He'll grow up to be—"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "I must not know about this, Miss Ashford. No matter what happens, _nobody_ must know what you found out today. Do you understand?"

Danielle's mouth fell open. "But sir! Tom Riddle is _evil_! Mrs Cole told me his mother said—"

"Mrs Cole has told me his story also," Dumbledore interrupted her. "I daresay you know much more about Mr Riddle than I do."

"Yes, I do," Danielle said, disbelief evident on her face. How could Dumbledore _not_ want to know that one of his students would grow up to be the most powerful Dark wizard of all time and kill hundreds of thousands of people?

"However," the Transfiguration professor continued, "Whether he remembers it or not, there is no doubt that Mr Riddle tried to harm you today. As a result, I will be keeping a _very_ close watch on him from now on. I would advise you not to go anywhere alone with him if you can help it."

Danielle couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was stuck with the future Voldemort and all Dumbledore was doing was keeping a closer _watch_ on him?

 _I might as well just give up now,_ she thought, collapsing back onto her pillows. She would be dead within a week anyway.

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore continued, "I cannot be watching him at all times, so I give you something that might be of more use to you." He handed Danielle a silver cloak which he seemed to have pulled out of thin air.

She didn't understand what it was at first. Then it hit her, and her mouth fell open. "An Invisibility Cloak," she whispered, running her hands over the silky, fluid material.

"I have a feeling it will do you good," Dumbledore said. "Take excellent care of it, Miss Ashford. It has many important jobs to do after you are done with it." His eyes twinkled.

Could this be Harry Potter's invisibility cloak, fifty years before he would receive it? "Thank you, Professor," Danielle said reverently. She hopped out of bed and draped it over herself. "Is it working?"

"I should be worried if it wasn't," Dumbledore said. "But be warned, Miss Ashford—it is not infallible. Spells can still be used against it, and you must be sure it covers your entire body at all times."

But Danielle was too busy experimenting to pay much attention. "I can go _anywhere_ in this," she whispered. " _Anywhere_."

"Be careful," Dumbledore cautioned. "I only entrust it to you because I know you will take the utmost precautions in ensuring it will not be lost or damaged."

Danielle pulled the Cloak off and folded it back up. "I will," she said fervently. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are quite welcome," said Dumbledore lightly. "But that is not all. Here—" he handed her what looked like a small purple ball. "Do you know what this is?"

Danielle shook her head.

"It is called the _Vita Servo,_ and it is one of the rarest magical items in all Britain."

"Then how did you—"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "That is another story for another time, Miss Ashford. All you need to know is when you are in a situation of ultimate danger, it will protect you. If you are in a situation where there is absolutely no help available and you are certain of being killed, you must whisper _Help me_ and you will be saved."

Danielle was skeptical. "Sir, then why doesn't everyone have one? If it's so helpful?"

"As I stated before, _Vita Servos_ are very, very rare. They have one use only, Miss Ashford, so save it for the moment when you are in the greatest danger." Dumbledore's blue eyes bored into hers.

Avoiding his gaze, Danielle looked down at the "extraordinary" object. Purple clouds swirled below the surface. It appeared a storm was brewing. "How does it help, Professor?"

"That, my dear, I do not know. It will depend on the situation. Do not take this lightly, I stress this. Hopefully you will never need to use it at all. I feel it is of more use to you than me at the moment. With this and the Invisibility Cloak, you will be protected."

"Thank you, sir," Danielle said again. She gathered up the Cloak and the _Vita Servo._ "But why go to all this trouble? Can't you just steal another Time-Turner from the Ministry and send me back to the future?"

Dumbledore chuckled, standing up. "That, Miss Ashford, is impossible, seeing as how Time-Turners are not stored in the Ministry yet."

Danielle frowned. "Then where are they?"

Dumbledore avoided her question. "Now, I must take my leave. I believe it is time for you to go and see Billy Stubbs and Tom Riddle. I already spoke to Mr Riddle, remember," he assured her, seeing her face. "He is not about to lose control again."

Danielle seriously doubted this, but she nodded. "Wait—sir—what makes you think that?"

"I am afraid I cannot tell you quite yet, Miss Ashford. In time, you will know."

Before she could answer, Dumbledore left.

Groaning, she hid the Cloak and the _Vita Servo_ (really, what kind of name was that?) and crossed the hallway to Billy's room, knocking lightly on his door.

"Come in," said Billy's muffled voice.

Danielle pushed open the door to see him lying facedown on his bed. "Billy?" she asked softly.

At the sound of her voice, Billy shot up. "Clara! Mrs Cole said you were all right, but I didn't know for sure…"

"I'm fine, Billy," Danielle assured him. "Er, what did she say happened, by the way?"

"She said you and Riddle came back early this morning after the air raid and you weren't feeling very well," the Muggle boy explained. "Then a strange man with a beard and a purple robe from the pound showed up and said that Barney had turned up in the middle of the night. So at least I know he's fine now."

Danielle's mouth was slightly open. How had Dumbledore learned about Barney? _Oh right. Riddle._

"You didn't have to go running after him in the middle of the night, you know," Billy was saying now. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"I turned out fine," Danielle said. She cleared her throat. "Riddle saved me. I hate to admit it, but—er—I probably would have been much worse off if it wasn't for him."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Generally, it's the other way around. Just ask Amy or Dennis."

"Yeah, Riddle is weird like that," Danielle mumbled. She looked down at her feet. "Anyway, Billy…I wanted to apologize for Barney."

"No, Clara, it's not your fault," Billy reassured her. "He's at the pound, anyway. He's fine."

Danielle couldn't look him in the eye, couldn't tell him that this was a lie and Barney was probably frozen by now. "Um, yeah," she said. "I gotta go now, Billy. See you later." She slipped out the door before he could say anything else.

Feeling sick at heart, she continued down the hallway to Riddle's room. Apprehension wormed its way through her muscles. What was Dumbledore playing at, not even seeming to care about Riddle nearly killing her? He'd acted like there was some reason that explained _everything_ about his behavior. Danielle rolled her eyes.

Riddle's door was slightly ajar. Damn. She raised her fist to the wood and knocked three times.

"Come in," he instructed. _Danielle, you really are a masochist, aren't you?_ she thought to herself before entering the room.

Voldemort—Riddle—whoever the hell he was sat perfectly still on the edge of his bed, looking impassive as always. Danielle coughed nervously, fighting the urge to run away…far away.

Riddle didn't look up.

"It's me," she finally said, as a way of breaking the silence.

He raised his eyes to hers, and she automatically took a step back. "What did Dumbledore say?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"What did Dumbledore say to you?" he repeated. He was no longer pokerfaced, but questioning, his expression tense.

Danielle swallowed loudly. "Nothing much…he said you were…better."

"That's it?" Riddle asked. He stood up, never breaking eye contact with her.

"Yes," Danielle answered, trying to feel for the doorknob behind her.

Riddle noticed this, and smirked. "You are scared of me," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"No." She said this more vehemently than she meant to, however.

"I assure you, Miss Ashford, there is nothing to be scared of if you do not provoke me. I cannot help my… _temper._ "

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "You can't help it? That's like me telling everyone I'm a witch, and then saying that it wasn't my fault."

"You do not understand. There are circumstances that are beyond my control." Riddle looked as if this conversation was the last thing he wanted to have. "But you would not tell anyone anyway, would you, Miss Ashford? It was never my intention to hurt you."

"Yes it was," Danielle whispered before she could stop herself.

His eyes hardened. "You are exaggerating things."

Dumbledore had said that Riddle didn't remember what had happened. Looking at his expression now, Danielle wondered if he had been right.

What did that mean then, if he honestly didn't remember? Should she be relieved or terrified?

"Now, Miss Ashford," Riddle continued quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I would appreciate it _very_ much if you told me exactly what happened today." His eyes searched her face. "Why did Dumbledore need to erase Stubbs's memory?"

Danielle would have liked to scream, "Get your bloody hands off me!" and wrench herself from his grasp, but something was making her muscles go weak. Meanwhile, Riddle had reached out his other arm and placed his hand lightly on her waist, drawing her closer to him. "Could you tell me that?" he breathed, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Please?"

Danielle could barely remember what his request had been. All she was aware of was that they were standing very close to each other, and he was touching her, and she was letting him—something like fire erupted in her veins, fire mixed with adrenaline. She knew he was dangerous, and he could kill her at any moment, _and why wasn't she pulling away?_

"So," Riddle murmured, sitting down on the bed with Danielle half in his lap, "what happened, Miss Ashford?"

"I don't know," she lied, averting her eyes from his.

He smiled, still calm. "What did I say? Did I hurt you?" He took her hand and gently played with her fingers.

 _Stop, get away from him, he's manipulating you, he knows the effect he has on you!_ The logical part of Danielle's brain was screaming, but she couldn't seem to pull away. His touch sent electric shocks throughout her whole body.

"If you tell me what happened, Miss Ashford," Riddle said, dropping her hand and running his hands up her arms, "I will in turn tell you something about _me_."

"Really?" Danielle choked.

"Yes," Riddle whispered. Now he had his hands on her shoulders. Ever so softly, his fingers slid across her collarbone to the first button on her shirt—

The bedroom door swung open and Danielle jumped up as if she had been lit on fire. "Oh, you're here, Clara," said Mrs Cole, looking flustered. "Never mind—I was just going to ask Tom if he was feeling better after last night."

Danielle nodded. She couldn't look at Riddle— _Voldemort,_ she told herself furiously. _You just let Voldemort feel you up._

She didn't look back as she left, and when she was safely outside in the hallway she slumped down to the floor, rubbing her temples. When had things suddenly got this complicated? She was only fifteen. Wasn't that a little young to be holding the fragile timeline of the wizarding world together?

Danielle had been two years old when Voldemort was defeated. She barely remembered anything about that time—only a fuzzy memory of her father running into the house and shouting, "He's dead! Elizabeth, he's dead! Harry Potter killed him!" Her mother, who had just come home from St Mungo's after giving birth to Andy, had grabbed Danielle and danced around the house with her. But that was all she could remember.

They learned about Voldemort at school, of course. Harry Potter had even come in to teach Danielle's Defence Against the Dark Arts class one time. Like everyone else in her year at Hogwarts, Danielle was an expert on Voldemort. But Voldemort was where it had stopped. The professors were all focused on what he had done once he had graduated Hogwarts—perhaps they had mentioned Tom Riddle's name once. That was why, Danielle realized, she hadn't made the connection until now. They treated Tom Riddle and Voldemort as two separate people. Riddle wasn't important to them—Voldemort was.

She now sorely wished this hadn't been the case. She wished they had taught more about Riddle so she could have known from the start, and stayed clear away from him. Now she was stuck with him. Damn whatever "rare and special artifacts" Dumbledore had given her—it wouldn't help any in the end!

"Argh," Danielle growled incoherently, raking her hands through her hair. Voldemort had killed her grandparents because they were Muggles. Could she just stand by and let this happen? Wouldn't it be better to outright kill Riddle now, and Danielle would go back to a happier future?

Someone passed in front of her, and Danielle saw it was Amy Benson. She was looking sympathetically down at her as if she understood exactly what Danielle was going through.

"Amy?" Danielle asked, making a split-second decision. "Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute?"

"No," Amy replied, frowning. "My room's…" she squinted for a second as if trying to remember, "…over here." Her room was directly across the hall from Danielle's.

Casting an evil glare back at Riddle's door, Danielle got up and followed Amy into her room.

To her surprise, Dennis Bishop was sitting on Amy's bed. He gave a quick jerk of his head to Danielle that she interpreted as a greeting.

"So, er," she began, clearing her throat. "I know you probably don't want to talk about this…but…what exactly did Tom Riddle do to you?"

As if they were one, Amy and Dennis's expressions hardened. "Nothing," said Amy mechanically. "He did nothing, do you hear!"

"We just went to the seaside," Dennis agreed. "Nothing happened."

"No," said Danielle firmly. "Something did happen. And I want you to tell me. It's important, you see."

But they stubbornly kept their mouths shut. "Is that all?" Amy asked coldly.

Danielle met her eyes boldly, and tried as hard as she could to infiltrate the girl's mind. In theory, Muggles were easier than wizards to perform Legilimency on…

Slowly, a memory began to surface in Amy's mind. It was murky, however, and almost _thick,_ as if it were made of quicksand…Danielle screwed up her eyes together and concentrated, pushing all other thoughts out of her mind. Her head began to ache from the focus, but she pushed herself. She had to do this.

Finally, memories that weren't Danielle's began to appear before her eyes. She resisted the urge to triumph…she wasn't finished yet.

With one last, great effort, Danielle drew the rest of the memory out of Amy's mind, and was bombarded with images.

* * *

_She was Amy, and she was standing inside a huge, dark cave with great crystals hanging low above her head. Her heart was pounding with fear and excitement. Beside her, Dennis grabbed onto her hand. "Den, where is he taking us?" she asked, her voice high-pitched. "He said he had a surprise…"_

" _I don't know," Dennis replied. His eyes were wide._

_A young boy, a young Riddle, loomed up out of the darkness. He was still a boy, maybe ten. But his eyes were older…much older. "Just a little bit farther," he said. "Don't worry; we'll be back to the others in no time!"_

" _I don't like this, Tom," she said, squeezing Dennis tighter. "Can you please take us back?"_

" _Why?" Riddle asked, frowning. "Don't you trust me?"_

" _No, we don't," Dennis said bravely. "We don't want your surprise anymore—leave us alone!"_

_Riddle didn't respond, but there was a small smile on his face. He glanced upwards. A second later, there was a shatter and Dennis shouted. One of the crystals had fallen, grazing his shoulder. Blood trickled down his shirt._

" _No!" she shouted, attempting to wipe the blood away. "Dennis!"_

" _That was just a little taste," Riddle said. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her away from Dennis. She hit the ground hard and began to cry._

" _Why are you crying?" Riddle demanded, advancing on her. She cringed and saw a red glint in his eyes. "Are you just that weak?"_

_"No—just leave me alone! Please!" she whined pitifully._

_Something slithered over her legs and she shuddered. An enormous snake was gliding over to Riddle. He knelt down and held out his arm. It wound itself around him, around his neck. He began to hiss, almost as if he was speaking to it._

_Behind him, Dennis had gotten to his feet. He picked up the crystal that had fallen and she saw he was preparing to throw it._

_But Riddle was too fast for him. He spat something at the snake and it threw itself at Dennis, sinking its teeth into his arm. She screamed and Riddle slapped her across the face, the red in his eyes flaring up. "Silence!" he ordered._

" _Don't touch her!" Dennis yelled. Riddle rounded on him._

" _Leave him alone!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, the echo resounding across the cave._

_There was a flash of light and everything went black._

* * *

When the memory ended, Danielle was on her hands and knees without remembering how she had gotten there. Her head felt as if it was being sliced open.

When she had recovered somewhat, she got to her feet to see Amy staring vacantly into the distance. Dennis was holding her. "Amy, are you alright? What happened?" he asked urgently.

Amy's blank eyes focused on Danielle. "Her," she whispered. "She's doing what…what _he_ does."

 _Oh Merlin._ Sensing brewing violence in Dennis's eyes, Danielle whirled around and grabbed the doorknob, but her hands were slippery with sweat and it refused to turn.

"You go to the same asylum as Riddle does," Dennis said. Danielle stared at him, her eyes widening. "You're a freak, just like he is! Why did you come here? Leave us alone!"

"I—I am leaving," Danielle gasped. "I was just trying to figure out—I didn't—"

In two strides, Dennis was standing over her. "I knew I would get my revenge someday," he said dangerously. "And you're the next best thing to Riddle." Before Danielle could react, he kicked her hard in the leg. She fell to the ground, clutching her shin.

"Den, don't!" Amy cried. "She'll hurt you!"

"I don't care," the Muggle boy spat. "I hope you and Riddle die. Freaks like you shouldn't be allowed to live." He drew back his foot for another kick, but the door swung open with such a force he was thrown backwards.

It was Riddle. _Of course,_ Danielle managed to think through the pain. _Who else would it be?_

"What are you doing?" he spat at Dennis once he had taken in the scene.

Dennis didn't answer. Something like triumph flashed across Riddle's face before he turned to Danielle. "Come along, Miss Ashford," he ordered. "Can you stand?"

"Yes," Danielle panted. Using the wall for support, she managed to stand up. She would have the biggest bruise in history tomorrow.

Riddle didn't say anything more until they had reached Danielle's room. He followed her inside—of course—and shut the door behind him. "It appears as if I save you every day, Miss Ashford."

"Yeah, well, thank you," Danielle ground out. She hobbled over to the bed and sat down heavily. "That might not happen if you weren't always around!"

"It _is_ rather difficult to ignore shouting coming from the next room," Riddle said acerbically.

"Seriously, Riddle," said Danielle, watching him carefully, "What is it with you anyway? My guess is you have several personalities."

A smirk grew on his face. _The infamous Tom Riddle smirk_ , Danielle thought idly. _He should seriously think about trademarking it_. "What would you say if I told you that was very close to the truth?"

"I would be even more scared than I am now," Danielle said, rubbing her shin where Dennis had kicked her. "And speaking of being scary, why do you always seem to be where I am? It's like I can't escape you."

Riddle frowned. For the first time, he appeared to be caught off guard. "I do not know," he said.

"Well, I do not know either," Danielle said sarcastically, mocking his formal tone. "So how about you go ponder it _alone_?"

A part of her was shocked at herself. Here she was, speaking so frankly and disrespectfully to the future Dark Lord! Just two hours ago, he'd attacked her. Today was making her head spin.

"I would appreciate you speaking civilly to me," Riddle said stiffly.

"I would appreciate _you_ acting like one person!" Danielle snapped.

For a split second, Riddle's eyes flashed with an indescribable emotion, and Danielle wondered with rising panic if he was about to snap again. But the moment passed and they were just left staring at each other.

"Touché, Miss Ashford," Riddle finally said. He inclined his head slightly towards her, and was gone before Danielle could respond.

But why was it she wanted him to come _back_? She realized she didn't really want him to go at all.

Danielle bowed her head, picking at a loose thread on the bedclothes. At times like these, when Riddle acted like a normal person (albeit a rather odd one) it was hard to believe he was as evil as she knew he was. At times like these, with his beautiful eyes burning into hers, it was hard to believe he would become Lord Voldemort.

After the incident this morning, Danielle knew it was dangerous to think of Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort as two different people.

So why was she thinking that way?


	20. Memories

Excited murmurs and giggling woke Danielle up on Christmas Day. She sat up and blinked slowly, still disoriented from her dream wherein she was being chased through a forest by hooded figures with bright red eyes.

 _The presents!_ she thought once she was fully conscious. _I forgot to wrap them!_

Jumping out of bed, she hastily wrapped Billy's books in the brown paper she'd purchased at the bookstore. When she'd finished, she frowned at the diary she had planned to give Riddle. Would it still be right to give him a present?

A tap at the window interrupted her train of thought. Danielle looked over, surprised to see an owl hovering outside. Using all her strength, she managed to crank the yellowed window open, sneezing several times at the amount of dust that puffed up.

With a flutter of wings, the owl swooped into her room, dropping an envelope onto her bed before finding a spot to perch on top of the wardrobe.

Danielle immediately grabbed the envelope, recognizing Alyssa's hasty scrawl at once.

_Happy Christmas, Clara! I hope it's still Christmas when you get this._

_I hate to be the one to tell you, but you won't be able to visit us during the holidays. Mum and Dad are taking us on a surprise trip to Spain. We're leaving today and not coming back until the day before school starts again. I asked if you could come with us, but with money being so scarce they can't afford another person coming along. I promise I'll get you a souvenir there! (Dylan wants me to tell you that he's enough of a present. He's so full of himself, isn't he?)_

_By the way, how are you and Tommy Riddle getting along? All closeted up at that Muggle orphanage, with only each other for company! When you two have kids, can you name one of them after me? (Just kidding…but I_ am _putting my Galleons on you someday playing a part in carrying on the Riddle name!)_

_Anyway, Mum's yelling at me to start packing. I should go now. Dylan says Happy Christmas too._

_See you next year! (1943, can you believe it?)_

_Love,_

_Alyssa_

_P.S. Don't snog Tom too much! Get out for some fresh air!_

When she finished the letter, Danielle was filled with a strange feeling. Part of her wanted to laugh, and part of her wanted to throw it across the room. She'd forgotten all about visiting the MacDougals during the holidays. Now that the subject had been brought up again, she realized how much she'd actually been counting on it.

Judging by the letter, Dylan hadn't told Alyssa about his kiss with Danielle yet. That was probably smart of him…Alyssa got angry if he even looked at Danielle longer than was absolutely necessary.

And what was with all the Riddle references? Sure, Alyssa loved to joke about her and Riddle, but having his babies? That was a bit much. Danielle imagined a little Voldemort Junior running around, and felt slightly nauseous.

All in all, however, she missed her friends. Danielle grabbed a piece of paper and a quill from the bedside table where she stored her school supplies, and quickly wrote,

_Alyssa,_

_Thanks for the laugh about Riddle—it made my day. Sorry I can't join you in Spain. It sounds like fun._

_Tell Dylan I'll use Deflatio on his head next time I see him._

_Was caught in an air raid a few nights ago and nearly died trying to save a puppy. Yes I know, I should have been in Gryffindor._

_Am finding out some really weird things about Riddle here. I'll tell you what they are later._

_Happy Christmas and have a great New Year's in Spain!_

_-Clara_

_P.S. The chances of me snogging a toilet are higher than the chances of me snogging Riddle._

Danielle folded the letter up and sealed it inside the envelope. "Here," she said to the owl, who flew down to meet her. "I don't have any treats, but make sure Alyssa gives you lots. Alright?"

The owl hooted in reply and soared back outside. Danielle watched it disappear over the rooftops before shutting the window.

Ten minutes later, she was dressed and making her way over to Billy's room. It took at least a minute before he opened the door, his hair sticking up in all directions. "Clara?" he asked sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, Billy," Danielle said at once, shoving the presents into his hands.

He stared at them for a second before realizing what they were. "Oh! I didn't know you were serious about replacing the books…you didn't need to."

"Well, I did," she replied firmly. "Every single one of them I ruined. _The Iliad, Anna Karenina, Robinson Crusoe, David Copperfield—"_

"I get it," Billy laughed, wide awake now. "Thank you so much, Clara." He threw his arms around her and hugged her.

"You're welcome," she said, inhaling his crisp scent and wishing he would hold her just a bit tighter.

Billy pulled away much too soon. "I got a book for you too," he explained. "Give me a moment." He ran to a seemingly random heap of books and grabbed the first one off of the pile. "Sorry I didn't wrap it," he apologized, handing it to Danielle.

" _Wuthering Heights_ ," she read. "That sounds familiar…" In reality, however, she'd never heard the title before.

"It's a good book, I s'pose, but not really for blokes," Billy said. "I thought you'd like it."

Danielle laughed. "Thank you! Now is it my turn to hug you?"

Was that a blush on his face? "Sure," he mumbled.

She took this as her opportunity, and threw her arms around him, pulling him closer. The longing for Billy had grown over the past week, and despite having only known him for a short while, she felt something drawing her towards him which she interpreted as attraction.

Luckily, Billy didn't pull away at once. His hands came to rest in her hair, and she closed her eyes.

The sound of a door slamming startled her. She pulled away from him to see Riddle glaring at them, eyes appearing flat black in the dim light. "Good morning, Miss Ashford," he said through an obviously clenched jaw.

"Happy Christmas to you too, Riddle," she said, annoyed. "Does the word _polite_ ring any bells with you?"

"Does the word _hypocritical_ ring any bells with _you_?" he replied. "The two of you are virtually taking up the hallway. Others need to get through."

There was at least five feet of space between Danielle and the wall. "Your depth perception must not be working correctly," she said, keeping her tone as polite as possible. "There's plenty of room."

"Er, Clara, I'm going to go back to bed now," Billy said uncomfortably. "G'night." He shuffled back into his room and shut the door.

Danielle rounded on Riddle. "Now see what you've done!"

"I have done nothing," he said lightly, brushing past her. Her arm tingled for no apparent reason.

For the past four days, there had been almost nonstop arguing between Danielle and Riddle. More than once, she'd caught that momentary red glimpse in his eye that signified his… _Voldemort-ness_ (as Danielle privately called it) showing through, but it was never more than momentary.

He aggravated her to no end, and she knew deep down this was because she was trying to hide her growing feelings for him. It was disgusting and twisted that she was finally recognizing her feelings when she learned who he really was. But what was even worse was that nothing was changing at all because of this fact.

* * *

They had a special Christmas breakfast that morning (it couldn't be compared to the Hogwarts feasts, but Danielle wasn't complaining) and even though the orphans didn't receive any presents, the general atmosphere was one of happiness.

What worried Danielle, however, were Amy and Dennis. She'd only seen them a few times, and they took great care to sit far away from her at mealtimes now. Danielle wished she hadn't attempted to use Legilimency on Amy now; the memory of Riddle bullying them made her feel sick inside. Everything had changed—again—since she'd come to the orphanage. She just wanted to stand up and scream.

"What's wrong, Clara?" Billy asked her later that afternoon. The two of them were sitting in the armchairs downstairs in the parlour beside the dilapidated-looking Christmas tree. Billy was reading (of course) and Danielle was _attempting_ to read _Wuthering Heights,_ but just staring angrily at the cover instead.

"Nothing," Danielle said, forcing her tone to cheerfulness. In reality, however, she was picturing a ten-year-old Riddle slapping Amy across the face.

Billy looked concerned for another second, but turned back to his book. Another unbidden image crossed through Danielle's mind—Riddle's eyes glowing red as he advanced on her.

 _No, no, stop it!_ She shut her eyes tightly and tried to think happy thoughts. _Hogwarts—Chamber of Secrets. No! Er…Alyssa—Dylan's kiss... No! Mum, Dad, Andy—I'll never get back to the future._

She couldn't even think positively. Maybe she was going mad. That was the only reasonable explanation.

_Riddle pulling her closer to him…running his hands over her arms…NO!_

She couldn't take it anymore. "Billy," she said. "Can I ask you something?"

His brow furrowed. "You can try."

"Do you mind telling me…exactly what happened with Riddle and the original Barney?" Danielle asked slowly, expecting a repeat of the situation with Amy and Dennis.

But Billy just took a deep breath. When he turned to look at Danielle, she felt dizzy for a moment and an image rushed into her head, entirely unbidden.

* * *

_Billy counted his last piece of change and smiled widely. He had just enough pocket-money to buy that white rabbit he'd seen at the pet store last week. 'I'll name him Barney,' he thought happily. 'We can go on walks around the garden and he can live in my room!'_

_He was just about to ask Mrs Cole if he could go to the pet shop when shouting from outside caught his attention. Billy rushed to the door and opened it a crack._

_Several of the boys were gathered in a large group in the hallway, laughing cruelly. Who was their target this time? Billy craned his neck to see Tom Riddle, a boy who was a year younger than himself. He didn't know Tom very well, but there were rumors that the boy was strange. Anyone who didn't listen to him got hurt in some way, the other orphans said. Billy made sure he stayed far away from Tom._

_But he certainly didn't look mean now. He was being pushed up against the wall, defenceless, while the other boys jeered at him._

" _Aw, poor wittle Riddle never met his parents!" a boy named Eric Whalley sneered._

" _No wonder he's at the orphanage—who would want a freak like him?" said another one—Colin._

" _You're a_ freak, _Riddle," the rest of the boys chorused._

_"Leave me alone," said Riddle, but his voice wavered. The other boys noticed this and laughed even harder._

" _The wittle baby wants the big boys to weave him_ awone _!" Eric mocked. "We'll weave you awone, Riddle—right after I do this!" He punched Riddle hard in the stomach. The boy gasped for air and doubled over._

_While he was incapacitated, Colin shoved him harder against the wall. Riddle fell down to the ground in a crumpled pile, gasping._

_Should Billy go stop them? He wasn't sure…but and Eric and his crew would bully Billy too if he tried to help Riddle._

" _Go away," the boy managed to gasp. "Or else!"_

" _What are you going to do, Riddle?" Colin asked. "Call your mummy? Oh wait—she's dead!" He laughed loudly and spat on the floor._

_Riddle raised his head. Billy could see his nose bleeding quite badly and a bruise beginning to form around one eye. "One day I'll get you back," he hissed._

" _I'm so scared!" Eric mocked. He bent down to grab Riddle by the shoulder, but as soon as his hand made contact with Riddle's skin he screamed._

" _My hand!" Eric shrieked. Billy's eyes widened as he saw smoke beginning to rise from the older boy's hand._

_The other boys all stared at him in shock and fear. "The freak did it!" Colin shouted._

_Riddle had gotten to his feet. "Go away," he said, more forcefully this time._

_Billy had had enough. "Leave him alone!" he said, thrusting open the door and running out into the hallway._

_Pain shot through his skull halfway there, and he stopped short, clutching his head. "I don't need your help," Riddle hissed. "I don't need anyone's help!"_

_Billy couldn't speak, so great was the pain in his head. Eric's crew had all run away screaming in pain. When he finally managed to stand up straight Riddle was gone._

* * *

Danielle was jerked back to the present for only a second, barely registering what she had seen before she was pulled into another memory.

* * *

_It was the next day, and Billy was sitting cross-legged on his bed with his new pet in his lap. Barney sat quietly while his new owner stroked him, wiggling his nose interestedly. Billy was so happy he could barely speak. He hadn't been alone with Barney yet, because all the other children had wanted to see him. But he was Billy's now—all his._

_"What's its name?" a voice asked from the doorway. Billy looked up to see Tom Riddle leaning against the wall as if he had been there all along._

_"Barney," Billy replied, holding his rabbit closer to him._

_"Can I pet him?" Tom asked._

_Billy remembered how Tom had somehow managed to burn Eric's hand, and the pain he'd inflicted on Billy's head…"No," Billy said._

_Tom uncrossed his arms, a disturbing expression in his dark eyes. "Why not?" he asked. "I won't hurt him, I promise."_

_"He's already been petted enough today," Billy replied._

_"No, that's not it," Riddle said. "You're lying. Tell the truth!"_

_"I am," Billy protested._

_Tom glared at him for another second, then abruptly turned around and left the room. Sighing in relief, Billy put Barney back in his cage and forgot about the strange occurrence._

* * *

"Clara," Billy said, his voice shaking. "What's going on?"

Danielle's eyes were just as wide. "I don't know," she said truthfully. She wasn't doing Legilimency at all—why was she being pulled into Billy's memories?

* * *

_The day after he had gotten Barney, Billy was doing his chores when Mrs Cole asked him to go up to the attic to fetch some more blankets. He willingly obliged, and when he'd managed to climb the long, winding staircase and push open the attic door, he was met with a sight he'd never forget for the rest of his life._

_Barney was hanging from the rafters, blood dripping from his lifeless form and collecting in a puddle on the floor. His once inquisitive eyes were glassy and unmoving._

_Billy stood in shock for at least a minute before he opened his mouth and screamed._

_Mrs Cole and the maid were the first ones upstairs with the rest of the children clamoring behind them. "What happened?" Mrs Cole asked, gasping as she saw Barney._

_Shaking, Billy turned to the horrified faces behind him. He caught sight of Tom's face among the orphans, looking smug. "Him!" he cried. "Tom did it."_

_Almost immediately, Tom's face rearranged into an innocent, puzzled expression. "I didn't, honestly!" he objected. "I would never do anything to hurt Barney!"_

_"You're a liar," Billy snarled. He threw himself at Tom and the two of them went tumbling down the stairs, Billy punching as much of the other boy as he could._

_When they came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Tom smiled. He hadn't tried to fight back at all. Somehow, his face was unblemished and unbruised. But that wasn't what made Billy jump up in terror._

_Tom Riddle's eyes were red_.

* * *

Danielle came back to the present digging her nails into her palms so hard she'd drawn blood. Billy's wide brown eyes stared back at her. "What was that?" he choked out.

"A…very…vivid memory?" Danielle suggested, smiling crookedly.

Billy swallowed visibly. Danielle could almost see things clicking into place for him. "The asylum…school…you and Riddle go to…it's not…for ordinary people, is it?" he finally asked, sounding slightly strangled.

Danielle cringed, but that was enough of an answer for Billy. "I knew it," he declared. "You're not normal."

"I'm not like Riddle though, honestly I'm not!" she protested. "I really don't know what happened there!"

Billy nodded. "I know you're not him," he said quietly. "He brings nothing but trouble, Clara. Do people at your school know that?"

She paused. "Some do."

"Wait," said Billy. "Can you read my thoughts right now?" He looked scared.

"No," Danielle reassured him. "If I concentrate hard enough, I might be able to see flashes of memories…people…places…"

"Alright," said Billy. He stared intently at her for a second. "What memory am I thinking of right now?"

Danielle met his gaze, and wasn't pulled into one memory, but several of them…

* * *

_He was walking outside and saw Riddle kneeling over a pile of dirt. He moved closer, and saw it was a snake, hissing wildly. Two older boys ran past him, ignoring Riddle's shouts, and stomped hard on the snake, grinding it into the ground with their boots…_

_Riddle was sitting on his bed trying to wipe blood off of his face. Billy could just see a badly bleeding cut slashed across his cheek before Riddle spotted him and the door slammed shut of its own accord…_

_All the children were playing outside except for Riddle, who stood alone in a corner with an almost wistful look on his face. "Hey, Riddle!" Eric shouted. "Want to come play with us?" He heaved the ball at the younger boy. It hit him hard in the chest and he gasped in pain…_

_The other orphans were gathered in a circle taking turns to scream and punch Riddle. "You stole my thimble!" a girl named Mary accused him. "My mother gave that to me before she died! I hope you die!"_

_A boy named John punched him in the face. "That's for taking my yo-yo."_

_"And my mouth-organ!" a girl, Jenny, yelled._

_"What is going on here?" Mrs Cole shouted. The children all looked scared and before Billy could move, they'd all scattered in different directions._

_"Billy Stubbs did it!" John yelled. "He was punching Riddle, we all saw it!"_

_"What?" Billy gasped. "No I wasn't!"_

_"Is this true, Tom?" Mrs Cole asked._

_Riddle looked up at him. Something in his expression hardened. "Yes," he said._

_That night, Billy snuck upstairs while all the other children were eating dinner. He opened the door of Eric's room and began rooting though his things. Under his bed he came across a silver thimble, a yo-yo, and a mouth organ. Eric Whalley, the true thief among the children. Billy grabbed the trinkets and hurried over to Riddle's room, where he shoved all the objects into a cardboard box and hid it in the very back of Riddle's closet…"That'll teach him," Billy thought victoriously, heading back downstairs…_

_The orphans had gone on their yearly trip to the seaside. Billy sat with a group of boys he didn't particularly like, but he didn't want to be alone or with Riddle._

_Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were walking by when Dennis started laughing. "Look at Tom, all alone!" he crowed. "He has no friends, right, Amy?"_

_Amy nodded enthusiastically. "He's going to grow up and be alone all his life!"_

_"Hear that, Tom?" Dennis called. "No one will ever love you! You're worthless!"_

_The boys Billy was with started laughing. Billy laughed too, but he didn't find the matter particularly funny. Weren't they all orphans, abandoned by their parents in some way? What made Riddle different from all the others?_

_"Hey, Amy, Dennis!" Riddle called from where he was sitting. "I have a surprise for you—d'you want to see it?"_

_The three of them left and didn't reappear until the end of the day…when they came back, Amy was crying, Dennis was bleeding and there was an odd, twisted happiness on Riddle's features…_

* * *

"Did you see it all?" Billy said once the memory had finished.

Danielle nodded, not sure if she could speak.

"My point is, bad things happen to people who annoy him, Clara," the boy said, sitting back into his chair.

"I know that," Danielle replied softly. She stared down at the book in her lap, unseeing. "More than you realize."


	21. New Year's Eve

It wasn't until New Year's Eve that Danielle actually attempted to read _Wuthering Heights._ The past six days had been a whirl of her frantically endeavoring to finish her homework, as a result of leaving all her work to the last minute. She only left her room to eat or hurry to the air-raid shelter in back of the orphanage. (There had been several more air-raids, but Danielle had learned to more or less stay calm.)

At precisely one o'clock that afternoon, she finished the last word of her History of Magic essay and threw her quill down, sighing in relief. School started again in four days and she was more than ready to go back.

 _Must be the Ravenclaw in me,_ she thought, shoving her books into her bag in a very un-Ravenclaw-like way. Now she could spend the rest of her vacation reading and, hopefully, relaxing—something she hadn't been able to do as of yet.

Alyssa and Dylan were probably soaking up the sun on a beach in Spain somewhere. Danielle only had to take one look out the window to receive a rude reminder that she most definitely _wasn't_ in Spain.

 _Think happy thoughts._ She imagined herself lying on the hot sand, feeling the sun saturate into her skin…with Dylan cracking jokes and Alyssa laughing beside her…Riddle shirtless… _wait, what?_

To distract herself from the admittedly not too unpleasant image of Riddle wearing nothing but shorts, she repeated over and over to herself, _He's Voldemort. Remember, that evil psychopath who killed your grandparents and went after your parents because they were Muggle-borns? Yeah, him. Stop finding him attractive._

 _But that's because he kind of_ is…

_Not for long. Soon he'll resemble a diseased snake. And have no nose._

_Wait, how do I know that? No one's ever whipped out pictures of him. So how do I know exactly what he looks like?_

"Stop!" Danielle said out loud. "I can't take this anymore."

_Hearing voices in your head again, are we, Danielle? Perhaps that's what the problem with Riddle is—_

"SHUT UP!"

* * *

Perhaps napping so soon after finishing a strenuous load of homework wasn't a good idea. After her dream of a shirtless Riddle chasing her down a sunny beach while her textbooks floated peacefully in the sky, Danielle woke up disoriented. She barely remembered where she was at first and wondered why her brain hurt so much. Then it all came rushing back to her and she sighed. _Billy said there was a New Year's Eve party tonight…I might as well go. I have nothing better to do anyway._

But until then, Danielle had nothing to do. She glanced over at _Wuthering Heights_ lying abandoned on her nightstand and grabbed the book. _I'm going to need glasses after all this reading during the holiday…_

Her worries were soon forgotten, however, the second she opened the book. She hadn't read a novel for pleasure in so long…perhaps it was exactly what she needed.

The sky was growing dark outside when there was a rap at her door. "Clara!" Billy called. "Mrs Cole says it's time for dinner!"

Danielle was rather abruptly jerked out of the tale of Catherine and Heathcliff. "Coming," she said, folding back the corner of the page she was on and hurrying to the door.

"What were you doing in there?" Billy asked.

"Reading," said Danielle. "The book you got me for Christmas, remember?"

"Oh yeah, _Wuthering Heights,_ " Billy said. "What part are you at?"

"Er, Catherine just came back from the Lintons' house," said Danielle. She was distracted by the sight of Tom Riddle ahead of them. _Merlin, isn't today his birthday? Mrs Cole said he was born on New Year's Eve…he's sixteen then. At the table we can all sing a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday Voldemort!"_

Nobody brought up the subject at dinner, however. The talk among the older children was the "party" that would apparently be taking place that night. Mrs Cole was taking the younger children to the celebrations downtown. If you were fifteen or older you were eligible to stay at the orphanage. Didn't Mrs Cole realize that the teenagers got into trouble just as much as ordinary children when they left? Perhaps she _did_ know, but was simply turning a blind eye to it…

"You there! New girl with the curly black hair!" a voice said from the other side of the table. Danielle turned with a surprised jolt to see a teenaged Eric Whalley from Billy's memories staring directly at her. "Are you coming tonight?" he asked.

She blinked several times. "Yes, I told Billy I would come."

"Good," he said with a leer at her. "It should be…fun."

"Right," Danielle said faintly. Her eyes met Riddle's and she looked quickly away, not wanting to betray what she was really feeling inside.

The first thing Danielle saw when she got back to her room was the diary she'd planned to give Riddle sticking out from under her bed. She had put it away in hopes that she would somehow forget it existed and she wouldn't have to face the problem of giving it to him. She evidently hadn't hidden it well enough, though.

Perhaps she could give it to him today. It _was_ his birthday, after all…besides, giving the future Voldemort a birthday present would be a story for the grandchildren. Then again, her entire _life_ would be a story for the grandchildren.

Danielle grabbed the book and wiped the dust off of it, examining it more closely. It seemed perfectly safe—what harm could Riddle do with a diary? It wasn't as if she was giving him anything _dangerous_.

Her mind made up, she got to her feet and marched straight towards Riddle's room before her resolve left her.

It wasn't until she had knocked on his door before she began to have doubts, but by then it was too late. He'd already opened it.

"What brings you here, Miss Ashford?" he asked suspiciously. Danielle noticed he seemed much more casually dressed than usual: he was wearing a pair of plain black pants and a white button-down shirt.

"Um, er, well, Mrs Cole told me it was your birthday today, so, er, happy birthday," she said lamely, handing him the diary. He looked down at it for a second before reaching out a pale hand and taking it.

"A diary?" he asked, turning it over and examining it closely.

"Er, yes," Danielle said, not sure why she was so nervous aside from the obvious.

"Why?" Riddle asked.

"I got it from the bookstore down the street, you see, and…" She trailed off, mentally smacking herself. Riddle hated Muggles! Why would he even look twice at a Muggle diary?

He was silent for a long time before he finally said, "Thank you," in a neutral tone. Danielle couldn't be sure whether it was sincere.

"Are you coming to the party?" she asked awkwardly, feeling it would be rude not to invite him. It wasn't as if he would come anyway.

Riddle's eyebrows drew the tiniest bit closer together. "Yes," he said.

Danielle was stunned. "Why?"

"As much as attending a Muggle New Year's Eve party does _not_ interest me, I will still attend."

"Yeah, I understood that part, thanks," said Danielle, her resolve to be nice fast disappearing. "But _why_?"

Riddle looked her straight in the eyes. "I will go because of you. There is no telling what calamity you will be the cause of next."

Danielle frowned. "I'm not that bad!"

"No. You are worse," Riddle said, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.

Stunned, Danielle turned around and left, all the while thinking, _Did Tom Riddle just attempt to_ smile?

* * *

At nine o'clock that evening, Danielle met up with Billy and the two of them headed downstairs to the parlor, where at least twenty Muggle teenagers lounged on the couches and chairs. Everyone was chattering happily and laughing, seeming very unlike orphans save for their uniforms.

Danielle noticed most of them held glasses with a clear liquid inside it. Alcohol…the Muggle equivalent of Firewhiskey.

"Billy," she whispered to her friend. "Where did they get the…er…drinks?"

He smirked. "Mrs Cole's private stores," he replied. "She never notices it's gone anyway."

"Cara!" a voice said from behind them. Danielle turned to see Eric Whalley holding several full glasses and grinning at her. "That's your name, right?"

"Clara," she corrected him, feeling repulsed. Though he seemed friendly—now—all she could think about was the memory in which he'd been punching Riddle until he'd bled with a brutal expression on his face.

"Oh, sorry," Eric said. He held out a glass to her, ignoring Billy completely. "Want some?"

"Um, okay," Danielle said, feeling it would be stupid to not take it. The glass was slippery with Eric's sweat, and when their hands briefly touched she had to resist the urge to jerk it away.

"So," the boy continued, taking a huge gulp of his own glass, "I'm Eric Whalley. But I'm sure you already kn—" He paused to smile at a girl who had just walked in before turning back to Danielle. "What was I saying again? Sorry, I get distracted easily." He began laughing loudly, though nothing was funny.

Was he getting drunk already? Danielle took a step closer to Billy.

Eric continued talking, but she barely noticed. There was a familiar prickle on the back of her neck, which she knew meant Riddle was around somewhere and was watching her.

Resisting the urge to look around and find him, she pretended like she actually cared why Eric was at the orphanage.

"…And so that's how I'm here," he concluded, Danielle not having heard a word of it.

Nevertheless, she forced a smile and nodded. "Nice. Um, I have to go. Bye." Before he could respond, she grabbed Billy's arm and pulled him to an empty corner of the parlor.

"Thanks, Clara," he said gratefully.

"Anytime," she replied, craning her head to look for Riddle. Ah—there he was, standing near the doorway with a look of obvious disdain. Everyone was giving him a wide berth.

"So, Billy," Danielle said, putting her glass on a nearby table. "We have two and a half hours until next year. What do you want to talk about till then?"

* * *

Things at the "party" remained fairly tame until about ten minutes before midnight. The excessive consumption of alcohol was beginning to take its toll on the teens. Most of them were draped around each other's shoulders or prowling around to find someone to kiss at midnight. Danielle had managed to keep Billy engaged in conversation, and so luckily they hadn't been bothered by anyone.

Riddle was still standing in the exact spot he'd been in two hours ago, looking as though he hadn't moved a muscle. Danielle was both fascinated and irritated by this.

"Anyway," Billy was saying awkwardly. "It's almost midnight."

"Yeah," Danielle agreed. She realized she was staring at his mouth and quickly looked away.

Billy smiled nervously. "So, er…"

 _Is he going to kiss me?_ Danielle thought with a touch of excitement. She licked her lips and smiled slightly.

But he seemed oblivious. "I've always hated the tradition of kissing someone on New Year's Eve, don't you?"

Danielle winced, feeling more disappointed than she'd care to admit. "Billy…" she whispered, and leaned toward him. _It's now or never…_

Surprisingly, he didn't pull away. They were getting closer…closer…

Just as Billy's lips touched hers something roughly jerked him out of the way and shoved her against the wall.

She caught a glimpse of Riddle's face, a feverish, almost inhuman light burning in his eyes before he slammed his mouth onto hers, pushing her hard against the wall.

The clock chimed twelve.


	22. Hallucinations and Revelations

Danielle was initially so stunned she could do nothing but just stand there while Riddle kissed her.

But wait…his mouth had suddenly become much softer…and his hair had turned lighter…

She wrenched herself away from him, but instead of seeing Riddle's piercing dark blue eyes her gaze locked on Billy's confused brown ones.

"What…" Danielle began, her eyes widening in terror. That was when she noticed the room had gone dead quiet. Everyone had turned to stare at her and Billy locked in a close embrace.

Someone wolf whistled, and Danielle turned bright red, confusion striking her like a well-aimed jinx. Her startled eyes scanned the crowd before coming to rest on Riddle, standing precisely where he had been last time she'd seen him. His impassive mask had disappeared, to be replaced with an odd sort of twisted rage.

_Dear Merlin. It was all a hallucination. I hallucinated about kissing Tom Riddle!_

"Clara?" Billy asked, but Danielle stepped away from him. "I—I have to go," she whispered, and pushed her way through the crowd. She couldn't bring herself to look at Riddle as she passed him, running out of the room and all the way upstairs where she finally collapsed on her bed, breathing heavily.

She couldn't hide it from herself anymore. _I fancy Tom Riddle. I fancy Lord Voldemort._

"I hate this," Danielle whispered to herself, feeling her eyes burn. "I want to go home."

But that was impossible. She felt the tears spill over and she sobbed as she hadn't since she'd first come to the past. Of all the people in the world to fall for, she had to fall for the most dangerous one; the one who would never, ever feel the same way about her.

 _Tell Dumbledore,_ a voice inside her head whispered. But Danielle knew she couldn't: Dumbledore would separate her from Riddle, not allow their paths to cross so her feelings wouldn't be allowed to grow. And that wasn't at all what she wanted.

Swallowing back more tears that threatened to overflow, Danielle curled up into a ball. Now was the time when, in a book or a movie, Riddle would walk into the room and they would have a heart-to-heart about their feelings for each other.

That, however, was impossible. While downstairs, the orphans danced their way into the night, Danielle cried herself to sleep.

Though she would never know, Riddle had left the party right after her and was currently sitting rigid on the edge of his bed, staring at a blank stretch of wall. Though Danielle would never know, he wasn't at all happy either.

* * *

_Everything was, quite literally, a blur. Danielle was shaking, her body pushed up so hard against the wall she felt as if she would crash_ _right through it. People were moving, talking, laughing around her but she didn't notice. She couldn't breathe; Riddle's mouth was hard and unyielding against hers, his body the only thing holding her upright._

_He seemed almost to be attacking her and through the shock-induced haze she wondered if this was the case. But no; she wasn't dead yet and she was in pain and she couldn't breathe and Riddle's hands were grabbing at her, pulling her hair and holding her so tightly against him she thought she would explode. He was completely, fully in control of her. She couldn't have pulled away if she'd wanted to._

_Little stars began dancing in front of her eyes and Riddle abruptly pulled away, leaving her gasping. But Danielle had barely refilled her lungs when he roughly grabbed her again, leading her away from the others. She tried to look at his face—and in that instant she saw not polite, charming Tom Riddle, not fearsome, red eyed Lord Voldemort, but an emotion that couldn't be described. Animalistic was what she would have called it._

_"Where are you—" she managed to say, but her words were cut short as Riddle pulled her up the stairs and into his room, forcefully kissing her again and his hands twisting in her hair._

_Awkwardly tangled, they fell back onto the bed. Riddle moved his mouth to Danielle's throat to give her some air. It was then she noticed his hands were undoing the buttons on her shirt and everything was happening so fast—he'd gone mad—_

_Danielle tried her hardest to summon up the courage to resist, but something in her mind had snapped and all of a sudden she was kissing him back, tasting his mouth against hers just like she had in all the thoughts she'd repressed, running her hands through his raven hair. He groaned out loud and her fingers moved to his shirt—_

* * *

A loud _bang_ reverberated throughout the building and Danielle's eyes snapped open. Her head was still full of the dream, her lips tingling as if she had really been passionately kissing Riddle just seconds before. There was a sharp ache in her heart she was by now familiar with. _Longing._ But this time, it wasn't for her family or her friends or her own time.

It was for Riddle. She was a disgusting person. She must be twisted herself, to dream of him like that!

There was no time to dwell on it, though. She realized her bed was shaking under her. An air-raid. This wasn't good.

Danielle threw the covers off of herself and tried to stand, but the head rush that followed brought her to her knees. What with her poor balance and exhaustion and her head still full of the intense dream, she barely remembered where the door was.

There were running footsteps, yells outside. For the second time, Danielle attempted to get up but she knew it was too late—she couldn't get to the shelter before the raid started.

Another explosion shook everything in her room, her wardrobe rocking back and forth. It was dangerous to run downstairs and outside when anything could be falling from the walls. What had Mrs Cole said? Make sure there was nothing that could fall on you. Danielle quickly looked around. Except for the wardrobe, which was across the room, she appeared safe.

The wailing sirens outside got louder and everything shook again, bright light illuminating the room. According to her watch, it was just after four in the morning. They'd never been attacked this late—early—before.

She managed to get to her feet and stumble towards the door, but a high-pitched noise made her stop dead. She dropped down to the floor just in time as the biggest blast of all literally rattled the building's foundation. Shards of glass rained down onto Danielle's head and a rush of cold air assailed her—the window had shattered.

She couldn't move or else she would risk cutting herself on the glass. She could do nothing but crouch in a tiny ball, with her arms protecting her head in case something heavy fell on her. _And Riddle thinks Muggles can't hurt us,_ she thought furiously.

After a heart-wrenching, terrifying minute later her bedroom door was thrown open. " _What_ in the name of _Merlin_ are you still doing here?" Tom Riddle hissed, crossing the room in two strides. He grabbed her arms and hoisted her up. "Do you _want_ to get yourself killed?"

He was angry, that was for sure. But Danielle had never been gladder to see anyone in her life. "Glass," she whispered. "The window broke…"

"I am aware of that," Riddle replied curtly. There was a scraping sound as he kicked the pieces aside. Danielle cringed as everything violently shook again.

They rushed through the dark, abandoned building, Riddle grabbing a lantern from where it lay on the floor. Every time Danielle lost her balance from tripping or fatigue, Riddle would glance back at her, irritation evident on his features. "Must you be so clumsy, Miss Ashford?" he finally said as they ran toward the door. "One would think you're doing it on purpose."

 _Yay! He used a contraction. He must be really agitated._ "I assure you, _Tom,_ it's not on purpose." Danielle gritted her teeth as they sprinted out the door and through the snow-covered ground to the shelter some twenty feet away.

Riddle tossed the lantern aside once they'd got to the opening and thrust the door open with incredible strength. Danielle immediately leapt in, to general astonishment.

"Clara, Tom, where on earth were you?" Mrs Cole demanded as Riddle firmly shut the door behind them.

"I slept through most of it, I guess," Danielle admitted, finally realizing how close she'd come to death. "Tom… _saved_ me."

Was it just her, or was that a smug smile on Riddle's face? "Yes, I seem to be doing that quite often," he said.

 _Lord Voldemort is supposed to take lives…not save them,_ Danielle thought. She looked up at him. "One of these days I'll save you, then," she replied. "It's only fair."

If she'd looked a little closer, she would have noticed a most peculiar expression on Riddle's face.

* * *

"Clara! Are you ready to go?" Mrs Cole rapped sharply on Danielle's door. "Tom's already waiting in the car."

"Coming!" Danielle called, stuffing _Wuthering Heights_ in her suitcase and closing the clasp tightly. She did a quick sweep of the room to ascertain she hadn't forgotten anything before grabbing her things and opening the door.

Mrs Cole immediately took hold of her suitcase and began to head downstairs. Danielle followed more slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Billy before she left the orphanage for good.

His bedroom door was slightly open. Danielle knocked and stuck her head into the room. "Billy?" she asked. "I'm leaving."

Billy looked up from the book he'd been perusing and took off his glasses. "I was waiting for you to come say goodbye. I'll miss you, Clara."

"I'll miss you too," Danielle replied, feeling a pang in her heart. "I'll try to write, okay? Promise you'll write back."

"Of course," Billy assured her. He got up and hugged her tightly. "Don't get into any trouble," he whispered into her ear.

"I won't," Danielle promised. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Bye, Billy."

"Bye, Clara," he said as they pulled apart. "Stay away from Riddle, will you?"

She laughed. "You don't even need to ask." But she felt guilty.

Billy waved and returned to his book. Danielle sighed heavily and continued on her way. It was obvious by now he didn't return her attraction. They were both trying to pretend the New Year's Eve incident had never happened.

She passed Amy and Dennis on the stairs. "Don't look at her, Amy," Dennis instructed his girlfriend loudly.

"Goodbye to you too," Danielle told them, rolling her eyes. They didn't reply.

Outside, it was snowing heavily and Danielle could hardly see the car. She made her way through the grounds and pushed open the gate, looking back once more at the orphanage. It still stood tall and imposing, just as it had when she'd first caught a glimpse of it. In some strange way, she would miss the place.

Mrs Cole already had the car running. Danielle climbed into the backseat beside Riddle and they drove away.

King's Cross was hazy and crowded as usual. Of course, Riddle disappeared as soon as they got into the station without even a backward glance. Danielle smiled apologetically at Mrs Cole. "Thanks for everything," she said.

"Oh, it was no problem, dear," the matron said warmly. "Perhaps we'll see you again in summer?"

"Perhaps," Danielle replied, avoiding her gaze.

"CLARA!" a voice shrieked from another platform. Danielle had just enough time to turn around to see something small and red jump at her.

"Oof— _Alyssa_!" She groaned as her friend threw her arms around her neck, nearly strangling her.

"How were your holidays, Clara?" Alyssa asked excitedly as soon as she pulled away. She looked decidedly frecklier and tanner than when Danielle had seen her last. "It must have been terrible being locked up in an orphanage for two weeks. Spain was the best time of my life—I mean, I'm sure _you_ had fun, of course, but it's just—oh, hello! I'm Clara's friend, Alyssa." She'd noticed Mrs Cole.

"I noticed," Mrs Cole replied dryly. "Now, I would love to stay and talk, but I have an orphanage to attend to. Have a safe trip, you two. Goodbye, Clara." She patted Danielle's shoulder once before leaving.

"Who was that?" Alyssa asked at once. "The matron?"

"Yes," said Danielle as they began to walk towards the platforms. "Her name's Mrs Cole."

"She seemed nice," said Alyssa. Though she'd always been energetic, Danielle could have sworn there was an extra spring in her step today.

"Yeah, she is—so what's with you? Why are you so hyper?" Danielle noticed Alyssa blush bright red at something in the distance.

"I'm always hyper," Alyssa said. "Dylan went ahead, by the way."

"Oh, okay," said Danielle, relieved. She was putting off her next encounter with him for as long as possible.

They disappeared through Platform 9 ¾ and emerged on the other side just in time for the Hogwarts Express to whistle loudly.

"Come on, we don't want to miss it!" Alyssa said, grabbing Danielle by the arm and pulling her toward the train. They managed to jump on just before the guard closed the doors.

"I hope Dylan got an empty compartment," Alyssa chattered on as they made their way through the crowded hallway. "I don't like sharing with others…"

Danielle only half-listened as they pushed through the throngs of students searching for Dylan. Part of her was looking for Riddle, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd missed the train? That would be satisfying. But no…he'd gone on ahead of Danielle.

"There's Dylan," she finally pointed out when they were at the very back of the train. Alyssa slid open the doors and collapsed onto the seat, complaining loudly about how they'd very nearly missed it.

Dylan grinned at Danielle as she sat awkwardly across from them. Like Alyssa, he was extremely tanned, and appeared to have grown an inch or two. "How were your holidays?" he asked.

"Fine," Danielle replied, quickly looking down. "How was Spain?"

"He fancies a _Muggle_!" Alyssa interjected. "Can you believe it? A _Muggle_!"

Dylan glared at her. "I do not," he said. "She was nice, that's all."

Alyssa snorted. " _Nice!_ She was hoping you would propose to her when we left! Her name," she said, turning to Danielle and adopting a terrible French accent, "is Felicity Evelyn Beauclerc, and she's from _France_ vacationing. I had to stop Dylan from telling her all about us more than once."

"So?" Dylan retorted. "She was pretty and smart. Not that you aren't," he said to Danielle, looking guilty.

"Dylan, you're a _pure-blood_ ," Alyssa said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "Mother and Father would disown you if you married a Muggle."

"You're right," Dylan agreed, frowning. "But what makes you think I'm marrying a Muggle? Felicity and I were just talking."

"I caught you two snogging!" Alyssa said in a heated voice. "Twice!"

"At least I wasn't fawning over Alphard Black!" Dylan snapped. "It was all a setup, you know, getting the Blacks to come with us! You know Mother and Father are looking at prospects!"

"Already?" Danielle couldn't stop herself from asking. "You're only fifteen."

"Sixteen next week," Alyssa growled, not taking her eyes off of her twin, "And of course they're looking for prospects! We'll be married off as soon as we graduate."

" _Really_?" Danielle asked. They both gave her a funny look. "Oh, right, sorry," she mumbled. She'd forgotten—again—about the customs in the 1940's.

"Our parents are hoping to marry me off to Walburga and Alyssa to Alphard or Cygnus," Dylan quickly explained. "Cygnus is only in third year, but that doesn't matter to them."

"Is it so bad if I like Alphard?" Alyssa asked angrily. "It's what Mother and Father want. At least I won't be marrying a _Muggle_!"

"I'm not marrying a Muggle!" Dylan shouted. "I'm marrying—" His eyes flickered to Danielle for less than a second, but it was enough. She grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up.

"Sorry, got to get some fresh air," she said lamely and left before they could protest.

It didn't matter anyway. They started yelling again as soon as she'd gone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Danielle headed down the corridor in search of a new compartment. She hadn't been walking long, however, when she saw Riddle sitting with Abraxas Malfoy, Orion Black, Angela Greengrass and a sixth-year whom she didn't know. Riddle was sitting beside Angela— _too_ close. Anger surged through Danielle and her hands balled into fists. Soft-spoken, seemingly gentle Angela with Riddle? It didn't make sense.

She had to know what was going on. She had to know what they were talking about and why Riddle was sitting _so bloody close_ to Angela.

Danielle stepped back out of sight and opened her bag, pulling out the Invisibility Cloak. What she was about to do was very stupid and probably very dangerous, but her anger and aggravation were clouding the rational part of her brain.

She checked to make sure no one was watching and pulled the Cloak over herself. A peculiar rush soared through her as she thought of all the things she could do, all the places she could go whilst under this. As long as Dumbledore didn't find out…

The door to Riddle's compartment slid open and Malfoy stepped out. Seizing her chance, Danielle hurried over to him and ducked under his arm just as the door shut. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute.

Now she was standing in the middle of the compartment with Riddle and Angela on one seat, Orion and the sixth-year on the other. It was an odd sensation—having someone look right through you. Danielle thought Riddle's eyes focused on her for a split second, but that was impossible. Nobody, not even him, could see through Invisibility Cloaks.

As quietly as possible, Danielle made her way to the other side of the compartment and grabbed onto the edge of the luggage rack. She silently pulled herself up, using every bit of strength she had. Hopefully their talking would drown out any noise she made.

It was cramped and uncomfortable on the tiny luggage rack, but Danielle forced herself to stay still as she curled up into a ball beside the suitcases. Her hands were still clutching her bag as if her life depended on it. The _Vita Servo_ was safely tucked away inside. If Riddle discovered her, would that qualify as the most dangerous situation?

"So, have you set a date for your… _plan_ yet, Tom?" the sixth-year asked slyly. Danielle held her breath.

"No," Riddle said sharply. "And I would thank you not to speak of it here, Nott."

"What plan?" Angela asked quietly.

"It is not important," Riddle said with a tone that implied the end of the conversation.

 _Press the point, Angela!_ Danielle thought. _Keep asking him!_

But Angela fell silent. Knowing her, she would never mention a word about the subject again.

There was a long pause. "Where did Abraxas go?" Orion finally asked.

"To see Olive Hornby," Riddle replied. "I daresay he will not be coming back."

"Are they…a couple?" Angela asked, leaning forward.

"Yes. I heard they visited over the holidays," Orion answered.

"So Abraxas has found a new bed partner then," Nott the sixth-year mused. "Hornby's definitely a looker. He's bloody lucky. All the other girls are…well…"

"You're a filthy hypocrite, Nott," Orion said, his lip curling up. "I saw you looking at Alyssa MacDougal today. She may be pure-blood, but her and her brother seem more like blood traitors than anything else."

"Like the Weasleys," Angela offered.

"Exactly like the Weasleys," Orion agreed. "I say, have you seen Muriel Weasley lately? She looks like…"

Danielle tuned them out, disappointed. She wished Nott had pressed Riddle for more information on the so-called plan. Would that be the same plan to open the Chamber of Secrets she'd overheard several months before?

It had been a bad idea to sneak into their compartment. Now Danielle would be stuck in the same uncomfortable position until they got to Hogwarts and forced to listen to Orion and Nott compare the girls they had slept with. Apparently, the 1940's weren't as modest as Danielle had originally assumed.

After several minutes, Angela moved over to sit beside Nott, so Riddle was left alone on his seat. Danielle stared intently at the top of his head, trying to figure out what he was thinking. But either his mind was completely blank or he was so practiced at Occlumency that it was impossible to even get a tiny glimpse of his thoughts. Danielle was inclined to believe the latter.

She was concentrating so hard she jerked slightly when she heard her name. "…Clara Ashford," Nott was saying. "The strange new girl. What do you think about her?"

"She's a pet of Dumbledore's," Orion said. "That's the only reason they let her in here. Nothing to look at either, which is a shame."

"I agree she's not that great," Nott said. "Average at best. I heard she has brains though. What do you think, Angela?"

"She's quiet," Angela said. "But she's definitely strange. Odd. There's something not quite right about her."

"Tom, you're awfully silent," Orion said. "You don't usually join in these discussions, but what say you about your fellow Prefect?"

"I have nothing to say," Riddle said flatly. He turned his head and looked out the train window.

Orion, Nott and Angela shared a loaded glance before Orion said loudly, "I heard she's with Dylan MacDougal now."

Up on her perch, Danielle gritted her teeth.

"Did you see them snogging on the platform before holidays?" Nott asked. "Perhaps Abraxas isn't the only one with a bed partner!"

"That is enough," Riddle said coldly. Danielle saw his hand reach for his wand.

Those two words were enough to stop Orion from uttering his next sentence mid-word. "Are you feeling all right today, Tom?" he asked instead. "Your temper is—er—shorter than usual, if you don't mind me saying so."

Danielle couldn't see the look Riddle shot him from where she hid, but it must have been venomous because Orion and Nott both cringed.

There was a silence. Danielle's legs were starting to go numb. She tried to stretch them out slightly, but as she did so the train rounded a sharp bend and her foot made contact with Riddle's suitcase. There was a loud _thunk_ and the suitcase rocked back and forth. Everyone's eyes turned towards her. "What was that?" Nott asked.

To Danielle's horror, Riddle stood up to straighten his suitcase. His hand came within inches of her foot. She shut her eyes and prayed she would survive this.

But to her surprise, nothing happened—no shouts, no angry outbursts. When she finally opened her eyes again, Riddle was sitting back down and Nott's arm was around Angela.

"Isn't there a Prefect meeting soon, Tom?" Orion asked, trying to get back on Riddle's good side.

"I think I should know when my own Prefect meetings are, Orion," Riddle replied harshly, but he stood up. "If Abraxas ever comes back, tell him where I am."

He left, with Danielle silently screaming. _No!_ She'd forgotten all about the Prefect meetings on the train. _Idiot, idiot, idiot! Serves you right, eavesdropping on conversations!_

She went through dozens of possible scenarios in her head, ranging from a search of the train to Riddle striding back in and pointing his wand directly at her. Her head hung in her hands. Dumbledore had told her to use the Cloak with utmost caution. This definitely _wasn't_ utmost caution.

After a painful eternity of agonizing, the door slid open and Riddle came back in, face blank. "How was the meeting?" Orion asked.

"The same as usual," Riddle said, "except for the fact that Clara Ashford does not appear to be anywhere on this train."

_Well, at least I know I was missed._

"Maybe she's still in London," Nott sniggered.

"No, I saw her get on with Alyssa," Angela said, speaking for the first time in a while.

"Very interesting," Riddle murmured. He twirled his wand between his fingers.

_Whenever he does that, you know it can't be good._

"Who cares?" Orion asked, pulling Angela onto his lap. "The girl will turn up eventually."

"She's probably in an empty compartment with MacDougal somewhere," Nott said uncaringly. "Besides, we're almost at Hogwarts."

Riddle clenched his jaw, but he stowed his wand back into his pocket and sat back down. Danielle could almost see the gears in his brain working at full speed. Hmmm…that was a good analogy. Perhaps she could somehow work that into one of her Muggle Studies essays.

Outside, it was getting steadily darker. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Danielle watched the mountains becoming increasingly larger as they headed further north. Soon she could see the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Just twenty more minutes and maybe, just maybe, she would make it after all…


	23. Occlumency

The train screeched to a grinding halt, and Danielle let out her breath in one long sigh of relief. Orion, Nott and Angela promptly gathered up their things and left. Unfortunately, Riddle was slower. Instead of grabbing his luggage like everyone else, he merely lifted his wand and the suitcase came flying neatly into his hand.

_How in the name of Merlin does he know non-verbal spells?_ Danielle thought with a touch of jealousy. _Well, I s'pose I shouldn't be surprised._

As if he heard her thoughts, Riddle paused at the door and surveyed the compartment. For one heart-stopping second, he stared straight at the place where Danielle hid. Then the moment passed and he turned away to leave.

It took a minute to get her heart rate back to normal. Danielle waited until she was sure he had left before swinging her legs over the side of the rack and jumping down, pulling off the Cloak as she did so. "Never again," she vowed to herself, folding it up and smoothing out her hair.

The train was by now entirely empty. When Danielle reached Alyssa and Dylan's compartment, she found that her luggage had disappeared. She panicked, but then she remembered that they probably would have brought it up to the castle with them like the good friends they were. Right?

As Danielle jumped off of the train, she caught sight of the horseless carriages just beginning to make their way up to the castle. "Wait!" she yelled, stuffing the Cloak into her coat and sprinting towards the last of them.

Luckily, the last carriage stopped and Danielle literally leapt inside. She found herself face-to-face with a group of third-year Gryffindors. They all narrowed their eyes at her.

"Sorry," she panted, out of breath.

"Why were you late?" one with messy black hair and hazel eyes said suspiciously.

"Er—bathroom," Danielle invented quickly.

They exchanged glances. "Bet you wish you hadn't asked, right, Charlus?" one asked.

Danielle looked more closely at the first boy. This must be Charlus Potter—Harry Potter's grandfather. Though Danielle had never met him personally until now, he was well known around the school for his elaborate pranks and huge ego. He was also the unfortunate victim of Olive Hornby—her bullying him had been what lost her the Prefect title.

The boys continued chatting as the carriages traveled up towards the castle, now oblivious to Danielle. She rested her forehead against the door, thinking up excuses to tell Alyssa and Dylan. So far, the bathroom one was the best she had.

When the carriages came to a stop, Danielle wasted no time in bounding out and searching for the twins amidst the throng of students heading into the Entrance Hall. She finally spotted them weaving in and out of a group of Hufflepuffs. "Dylan! Alyssa!" she called.

They both turned at her voice. "Clara!" Alyssa said, shocked. "Where in the name of Merlin where you?"

"Bathroom," Danielle said as they took their seats at the Slytherin table.

"Really?" Alyssa asked doubtfully. "I looked there but didn't find you!"

Danielle shrugged. "Weird."

"What matters is you're here now," Dylan said, grinning at her. "By the way," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "There's nothing between Felicity and I. I promise."

"It's no problem, Dylan, really," Danielle said.

He looked relieved. "Good."

"Speaking of by the ways, where's my luggage?" she asked.

"No idea," Alyssa said through a mouthful of potato. "We went looking for you, and when we came back, it was gone."

Danielle's mouth fell open. "So it disappeared? Just like that?"

"Looks like it," her friend replied. "Ask the Headmaster about it."

"Oh, I don't think I'll need to," Danielle muttered. She stole a glance over at Olive Hornby, who resembled the cat who'd swallowed the canary.

After the feast, Danielle made a beeline for Olive, but her path was suddenly blocked by a tall, dark figure. "Miss Ashford," Riddle said. "Might I ask why you were not at the Prefect meeting this afternoon?"

"Sorry," Danielle said, standing on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder at Olive, who was leaving the Great Hall with Malfoy. "I was in the bathroom."

She could tell by his expression Riddle didn't believe this one bit. "For two hours?"

"I guess the orphanage food didn't quite mix well with me," Danielle said, smiling apologetically. "You know how it is."

Riddle gave her a strange look. Apparently, lengthy conversations about upset bowels weren't his forte.

"Good evening, Miss Ashford," a voice said from behind her.

Danielle turned to see Dumbledore smiling pleasantly at her as if he'd been there all along. "Did you enjoy the feast?" he asked. "I do like treacle tarts…"

"Evening, Professor Dumbledore," Riddle said politely, clasping his hands behind his back. Though his tone was perfectly civil, Danielle could tell he was annoyed at being interrupted.

"How are you tonight, Tom?" Dumbledore inquired as if they were old friends.

"Fine, thank you," Riddle said. "We were just getting ready to do Prefect duty."

"Oh, but I'm afraid Miss Ashford will not be able to make it tonight," Dumbledore said, putting a hand on Danielle's shoulder. "I would like to see her in my office this evening."

"That's alright, sir," Riddle replied, looking as if it was not at all alright. "I shall see you tomorrow, then, Miss Ashford?"

"Sure," said Danielle. Riddle forced his face into an awful smile before leaving.

"Now, shall we take our leave, Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "I am quite sorry to be depriving you of your Prefect duties."

"It's fine, sir. I wasn't looking forward to it, honestly," Danielle assured him as they left.

Dumbledore looked amused. "I thought you and Mr Riddle were getting along splendidly."

"A more accurate word would be badly," Danielle said. "Sir, I—"

"First things first, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said, sweeping into his office. Danielle frowned, but followed him and took her usual seat in the chair by his desk.

"Now, your luggage has been kindly brought in by Miss Hornby," he began, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward. "I will not ask what you were doing on the train that led to you disappearing for several hours, as per the conversation between you and Mr Riddle."

Danielle had to look away from his gaze. She felt ashamed, even though she had not voiced her thoughts out loud.

"On a different note," Dumbledore continued more gently, "I see you do not seem too shaken by the incident last week. In fact, you were speaking to your fellow Prefect as if the whole thing never happened."

"I'm trying to forget it, sir," Danielle said truthfully. "Besides, I know the Invisibility Cloak and the Vito-whatever will protect me."

" _Vito servo,_ " Dumbledore corrected her. "It literally means _Life saver_."

"Yes, that. I feel…safer with them around."

"As well you should," Dumbledore said. "Miss Ashford, Mr Riddle is a bit of a special case."

"Very true, sir," Danielle agreed, nodding her head.

"During my brief second trip to the orphanage last week, Mrs Cole told me a few more things about Mr Riddle I hadn't previously known."

"Like the curse?" Danielle asked immediately. "Sir, what does that mean?"

"I have several theories," said Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, Miss Ashford, I am not disposed to tell you any of them."

"Why are you doing this, sir?" Danielle burst out. "I have a right to know everything about Tom Riddle!"

"Do you?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "Or do you just think you do?"

"Of course I do!" Danielle cried. "He kil—" But she remembered her promise to keep quiet about the future and fell silent.

"My point is," Dumbledore said, perfectly agreeable again, "I learned that perhaps Mr Riddle is…shall I say… _stronger_ than I originally thought. Is that correct, Miss Ashford?"

Danielle nodded mutely.

"I am not talking in terms of physical strength, though that is a factor. I am talking about his mental strength," Dumbledore said. "Luckily, I could tell from the first moment I saw you that you have a rudimentary knowledge of both Occlumency and Legilimency."

"Yes, sir," Danielle mumbled. "If you don't mind me revealing this, in the future Hogwarts makes lessons in those arts mandatory."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, looking pleased. "Well, I am here to help you strengthen those abilities."

"What are you talking about?" Danielle said, confused. "You're going to give me Occlumency and Legilimency lessons?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, a small smile on his face. "I think they will prove to be extremely beneficial."

"So…if Riddle tries to attack me again, I'll be able to keep my mind completely closed?" Danielle asked.

"Yes. Even under torture," Dumbledore said solemnly.

She shivered. "I…guess that sounds helpful."

"If you don't mind me saying so myself, Miss Ashford, I am quite skilled in those areas," the Transfiguration professor said. He stood up. "Shall we begin?"

"Right now?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said serenely. "Hopefully there will be progress even after just one session."

Danielle stood up too, slightly nervously.

"I want you to keep your mind empty and blank of all emotion. Try to pretend you are formless, shapeless. Feelings do not exist for you." Dumbledore raised his wand. " _Legilimens_!"

Danielle was unprepared for the abruptness of his spell, and so had no time to put up any defences. Images flashed before her with lightning speed.

_She was sitting on a rock crying while Olive Hornby laughed at her…she was staring out of a window in the library watching a Quidditch match take place…it was her first year at Hogwarts and the Sorting Hat shouted out "Ravenclaw!"…Andy was chasing her around the garden at their grandparents' house…Riddle was staring down at her with that blank mask she knew so well…_

"Miss Ashford!" Dumbledore had lifted the spell and was looking disapprovingly at her. "It is necessary that you concentrate and focus on blocking your mind!"

"Yes, sir," Danielle said. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on nothing, which was harder than it sounded.

" _Legilimens_!" Dumbledore said again. This time, the images didn't appear as quickly, and they were foggier—but they were still there.

_Barney the puppy was running away into the night…she huddled in the temporary shelter with Riddle…she was kneeling in her front yard and staring at the Time-Turner…the strange young boy from her dreams was laughing and pulling at her father's hand…_

"No," Danielle gasped. This time she barely noticed when Dumbledore lifted the spell. She was on her hands and knees without remembering falling. "Professor…are these just memories or can they be from dreams too?"

"They're pure memory, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said, frowning slightly at her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I think so," Danielle said, getting to her feet. "Sir…that little boy in the last image…I don't remember who he is. I've been having strange dreams too…it's like they're actual memories, everything is so clear…but I don't know who he is!"

"Are they from when you were very young?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Yes," said Danielle, "But I have other memories from that time, and he's not in any of them! Sir, I know this sounds crazy but…he can't be my cousin, because my parents are both only children, and all I have is a younger brother, not an older one…"

"A neighbour or a friend, perhaps?"

"We live in the middle of nowhere," Danielle explained. "And I don't think it's a friend…because…he looks a lot like me." She finished her sentence in a whisper.

"Possibly you have an older brother whom you don't know about," Dumbledore said. "It's been known to happen before." There was a teasing tone in his voice.

"Yes," Danielle said quietly. "But if he is my older brother, then why don't I know about him?"

* * *

An hour later, they still hadn't made much progress. The image of the young boy still tugged at Danielle's thoughts, and even though he hadn't appeared in any more memories, she couldn't push him out of her mind long enough to concentrate on the task at hand.

"I think that will do, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore finally said, after he had been forced to witness a particularly painful memory of Danielle falling off of a broomstick whilst attempting to play Quidditch.

"Sorry, Professor," Danielle said, rubbing her aching temples. "I'm trying, honestly I am."

"I know, and I can see that there will be no more progress made tonight," the professor said, magically conjuring a flask out of thin air. "Drink this, and your headache will disappear."

Danielle obediently drowned it in one. Miraculously, she felt good as new, like she _hadn't_ spent the past hour having her memories excruciatingly dragged out of her unconscious.

"Thank you, Professor," she said. "I really appreciate you trying to help me."

"You are quite welcome," Dumbledore said. "I'll see you this time next week?"

Danielle nodded and was about to leave when he cleared his throat lightly.

"Oh, Miss Ashford?" the Transfiguration professor asked. "Remember this: research will get you far."

Danielle frowned. "Pardon me, sir?"

"You heard me," Dumbledore said, a twinkle alighting in his eyes. "Don't forget—you still are a Ravenclaw."

Danielle blinked. "I don't understand…"

"You will soon, my dear," he said warmly. "Now, I believe it is almost time for bed. I always find my first nights back at Hogwarts particularly restful, don't you?"

With that, Danielle was dismissed. Still confused, she shut the door behind her and started to head back toward the Slytherin common room.

She wasn't even halfway there, however, when an idea struck her. Despite the events of the day, she wasn't at all tired. And Dumbledore _had_ said to do more research…

Danielle executed an abrupt turnaround and went back the way she had came, only turning left at the staircase instead of right. She soon found herself at the entrance to the library, which was almost completely deserted save for a figure sitting at a table with a large stack of books.

Danielle meant to pay the person studying no heed, but as she got closer a jolt in her stomach region told her it was Tom Riddle. _Ignore him,_ she told herself.

Gritting her teeth angrily, Danielle walked purposefully past him, quickly glancing at the book he was reading. It looked to be extremely old, written in gold spiraling calligraphy.

"Hello, Miss Ashford," a polite voice said from behind her. _How did he hear me?_

"Hello," Danielle replied back, not turning. She grabbed the first book she saw off the shelf and, too late, realized the title: _Get Him In Ten Days: Twelve Ways To Charm The Wizard Of Your Dreams._

Riddle smirked slightly at her. "Looking for something specific?" he asked. "I hear Professor Slughorn brews excellent Love Potions."

Hearing the word _love_ come from the future Voldemort's lips angered Danielle to no end. _You don't deserve to even say the word, you manipulative bas—_

"So how did your… _meeting_ with Professor Dumbledore go?" Riddle continued. "It must have been important, what with having to miss your Prefect duties."

"It wasn't that important," Danielle said. She hoped it was dark enough in the room so he couldn't see her ridiculously blushing.

"Really?" Riddle asked. His chair scraped back and he stood up. "Interesting."

_Blank mind, my mind is blank, I have no emotions, I am formless, shape—damn you for being so handsome, Riddle!_ Danielle took a deep breath and turned her head. She might be decent at getting into someone else's head, but blocking her own mind was another matter. It was strange, because Occlumency was generally easier to perfect than Legilimency.

"Why do you care, Riddle?" Danielle asked, taking a step backwards. "It's none of your business what I was doing tonight."

"Oh, but it _is_ ," Riddle said. "You see, I care about my fellow Prefect, and when she first disappears on the train, and then neglects her duties—"

"I didn't neglect my duties!" Danielle snapped. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to see me!"

Riddle suddenly went rigid. His eyes unfocused and his hand shot out to steady himself on the nearest bookcase.

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Pretending to be caught off guard?" she asked him. "Well, it's not working."

But he didn't appear to hear her. He was still staring straight into her eyes, but it was obvious he wasn't _seeing_ her. He was gripping the bookcase so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"Riddle?" Danielle asked, slightly worried now. "You can drop the act, you know, really—"

The boy's eyes focused on her, then unfocused again—and a flash of red shot through his eyes.

Horrified, Danielle began to back away. "Should I—should I get Madam Cutteridge?" she asked, even though she knew he wouldn't answer.

Riddle shuddered and let go of the bookcase, breathing heavily. Slowly, he regained composure while Danielle watched in a sort of horrified fascination, her feet rooted to the spot. When Riddle raised his head again, the red was gone from his irises and he looked perfectly normal again, save for the beads of sweat on his forehead. "What happened?" he asked, and there was an edge to his tone Danielle had never thought she'd hear.

_Fear._

"N—nothing," she lied, plastering a smile onto her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Miss Ashford—" Riddle began, but an angry shout interrupted him.

"What in the name of Merlin's prized books are you two still doing here?" a much younger Irma Pince shouted, seemingly appearing out of thin air. "The library closed half an hour ago!"

"Sorry, Madam Pince," Danielle apologized at once. "I lost of track of time and was just going."

"As am I," Riddle added. He grabbed Danielle's wrist and pulled her away from the angry librarian.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, jerking her arm out of his grasp. "I'm not a puppet, you know."

As they passed the table where Riddle had been reading, Danielle caught a glimpse of the book he'd been so intensely studying: _A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter._

_Merlin…just reading the title is boring._

"Now, Miss Ashford," Riddle said as soon as they were safely outside, "I need to know if anything else happened while we were in the library."

" _No_ ," Danielle said firmly. Dumbledore had said not to tell him what had happened back at the orphanage, so why should she tell him what had happened just now? "Should anything else have happened?"

Riddle stared at her for a long moment, as if appraising her. "No," he finally said. "Nothing."

But as they walked back towards the Slytherin common room, Danielle noticed he was moving slower than usual and his hands were clenched into fists. "Are…are you okay?" she ventured to ask. "You look rather…ill."

"I am fine," Riddle replied curtly, but his uneven breathing said otherwise.

Danielle waited until they'd entered the common room and were climbing the staircases to their respective dormitories before whispering, "No, Tom Riddle, you are definitely _not_ fine."

Alyssa was the only one still awake when Danielle came in. "Clara!" she whispered eagerly, her face even paler reflected in the moonlight. "Why did Professor Dumbledore want to see you?"

"He just wanted to check how I was doing," Danielle answered as she opened her suitcase. "You know, making sure I'm adjusting well and—ARGH!" She let out a strangled yell and jumped backwards.

Lights immediately flickered on as the other girls woke up. "What in the name of Slytherin is _happening_?" Walburga Black screeched, evidently not happy at the disruption.

"F—Flobberworms!" Danielle gasped, staring horrified at the sight of hundreds of brown, wriggling creatures that had poured out of her suitcase.

Alyssa shrieked. "Somebody Vanish them!" she cried.

Seeing Walburga, Angela and Olive were no help, Danielle grabbed her own wand and pointed it at her trunk. " _Evanesco!_ " she ordered. The Flobberworms instantly disappeared.

"Thank Salazar," Alyssa said, flopping back onto her bed. "Who did that, Clara?"

But Danielle wasn't finished yet. Holding up her hand to stop Alyssa, she whispered, " _Incantatia revelio!_ "

An eerie purple light shone around the suitcase and several sparks shot out of the bottom.

"There was a Stinging Hex placed on the interior, too," Danielle muttered. She lowered her wand and knelt down in front of the suitcase, riffling through her things to make sure nothing was stolen. When she was satisfied nothing was missing, she stood up. "Why did you do it, Olive?" she asked.

"There are three simple reasons, _Ashford_ ," Olive said rudely, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking down her nose at Danielle. "First, to get you back for that prank you pulled on the train. Second, because you stole Tom from me. Third, I just don't like you."

"I did not steal Riddle from you!" Danielle exclaimed in spite of herself. "He belongs to no one, in case you haven't noticed."

"Don't be stupid, Ashford. He's always watching you with that basilisk stare of his. It's obvious what he wants." Olive examined her fingernails, apparently bored.

"Why do _you_ care?" Alyssa said, jumping to Danielle's defence. "You have Abraxas."

"So?" Olive said snidely. "I've been trying to get Tom for longer. And I almost had him, too, before _this_ little freak came along and ruined it."

"I didn't ruin it!" Danielle said fiercely. "Riddle doesn't even like me!"

Olive cackled. " _Like_? Like has nothing to do with it! You're more naïve than I thought. See, Ashford, Tom doesn't _like_ you. What he wants to do is get you on a bed, any bed, and—"

"I get the point," Danielle said firmly. "But that's where you're wrong. He doesn't want to do anything other than probably kill me."

"Wake up and smell the roses," Olive said. "Believe me, I know what it looks like when a man desires a woman. The way Tom looks at you, Ashford, should be the way he looks at _me._ And, unlike you, I'd give him what he wants." With that, she waved her wand and the hangings around her bed snapped shut.

Danielle looked over at Alyssa, who was openmouthed. Angela and Walburga had both surreptitiously gone back to bed.

"Is it true?" Danielle whispered to her friend as she pulled her pajamas out of her now jinx-free suitcase.

Alyssa shrugged slightly. "I don't know," she whispered back. "All I know is that Tom pays more attention to you than he ever has to anyone."

"That's just because I annoy him so much," Danielle said as she crawled into bed. _That, and the fact that he doesn't know exactly how badly he's lost control in front of me._


	24. Fragile Line

A week after school had started again, Danielle found herself being dragged to one of Dylan and Alyssa's Quidditch matches. Both twins were avid players, unlike Danielle. Quidditch had long ago become synonymous with 'humiliation' in her mind after an unfortunate incident in her first year where she'd spent three days in the hospital wing.

"Did Gryffindor just score?" Danielle whispered under her breath to Alphard Black, who was sitting in the stands beside her.

"No, their team is cheering because Slytherin scored," Alphard replied sarcastically. "Honestly, Clara, haven't you ever watched a Quidditch game before?"

"I try not to," Danielle muttered. She squinted at the tiny figures zooming at unbelievable speeds around the pitch. "All I know is that Dylan is a Beater, and Alyssa is a Chaser, correct?"

"Yes," Alphard said absent-mindedly, peering through his binoculars. "Oh, look, look, Alyssa scored!" he yelled in Danielle's ear.

All around them, the Slytherins roared their approval in a sea of green. Danielle cheered too, but she couldn't help but wonder how on earth they could even see what was happening.

A flash of gold caught her eye and at the same moment, a green dot broke off from the others and sped towards it. "There's the Snitch!" Alphard said excitedly. "C'mon, Abraxas, you can do it!"

But Gryffindor's Seeker, Charlus Potter, had also spotted the Snitch. The two were racing at breakneck speed towards the tiny, fluttering ball. Even though she really had no interest in Quidditch, Danielle couldn't help but mentally root for the Slytherin team.

But just as the two were neck-in-neck, she saw Abraxas's hand reach out and knock Charlus away from the Snitch, then grabbing it himself.

As one, the Slytherins stood up and cheered, Alphard included. "Didn't you see that?" Danielle demanded, snatching his binoculars away from him. "Abraxas cheated!"

"So?" Alphard shouted. "We won!"

Victory, however, wasn't the Slytherins' yet. Danielle wasn't the only one to have noticed the foul; Madam Rolanda, the referee, had run out onto the pitch and the players had all gathered in a large circle around her. Numerous hisses and jeers could be heard from both Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Slytherin caught the Snitch!" Alphard yelled down at the pitch. "It's over!"

But his cries fell on deaf ears. Ten minutes later, the players and Madam Rolanda were still huddled in a large, arguing group.

The freezing January air was beginning to bite at Danielle's fingers and toes. She hopped from foot to foot to keep herself warm, but to no avail. She was slowly but surely turning into a life-sized ice sculpture.

"A—Alphard," she finally said, teeth chattering, "I'm g—going to go inside. It's f—freezing."

"Sure," Alphard said distractedly. Danielle doubted he was even listening to her. Wrapping her cloak tighter around herself, she pushed her way through the angry, booing Slytherins and made her way back up to the castle, the glacial air biting at every inch of exposed skin.

She was more than halfway numb by the time she gratefully got to the Entrance Hall and huddled in front of the fire. _Why am I the only one who seems to be cold?_ She idly wondered. _Are they all such huge Quidditch fanatics that they don't even notice it?_

Footsteps echoed from behind her as someone came up the stairs from the dungeons. Danielle turned to see Tom Riddle walking past her without turning his head. This bothered her more than it should have. "Hey—Riddle!" she called, but he didn't turn.

_Well, someone's in a bad mood._ "Where are you going?" she asked, some unknown force causing her to jog after him.

He didn't answer nor show that he had realized her presence. Danielle frowned and waved her hand in front of his face. "Riddle?" she asked. "You okay?"

There was no response; none at all. What was he playing at? "You can at least say 'Hello, Miss Ashford' in that superior tone of voice, you know," Danielle told him, trying to sound lighthearted. "Or are we past the politeness?"

Still no reply. He turned abruptly down the second-floor passageway that led to the girls' bathroom. Danielle was beginning to feel a bit worried. He'd never acted this out of it before. Even if he was annoyed, he would at least give a sign he noticed her. "Do you want to know a secret, Tom?" she asked weakly, trotting to keep up with his relentless pace.

Now he turned his head and looked at her, but there was something different about his eyes. The dark blue seemed almost to be frozen over. It was unsettling.

Danielle tried not to outwardly show her growing unease. "Guess what? I fancy you," she said, adding in a wink for good measure. If he didn't react, then something was definitely wrong.

Riddle didn't even blink. As if he hadn't heard her, he faced forward again and continued marching down the hallway.

Now she was scared. "T—Tom?" Danielle asked, reaching for her wand. "I'm going to get a teacher if you don't snap out of it."

They were at the entrance to the bathroom now. Riddle walked straight inside without even sparing a glance towards her.

With one giant stride, Danielle leapt in front of him, blocking his path. "Tom Riddle, you better explain exactly why you're in a girl's bathroom, or I—"

Almost carelessly, he shoved her out of his way. Danielle pointed her wand at him.

" _Expell—"_

So fast she barely saw it happen, his wand was out and pressing against her throat. "Leave," Riddle commanded, his voice almost a hiss.

"No," replied Danielle, but her knees were shaking. "I was stupid enough to follow you in here, so I'm going to remain here until you go away."

"That, girl, is a mistake," he hissed, digging his wand deeper into her neck. Danielle winced. "I will give you five seconds to leave and no more will be said of this matter."

She clenched her wand tightly and whispered, " _Stupefy_!"

There was a burst of red light, but Riddle had somehow managed to conjure a Shield Charm which deflected the spell. The spell reverberated around the room, finally hitting a sink which proceeded to shatter.

"Foolish girl," Riddle said, his eyes flashing crimson. "When will you ever learn not to meddle in affairs that are not your own?"

He released his grip on Danielle but kept his wand pointing at her heart. All of a sudden, she felt a hot, sharp pain slice through her entire body. She gasped loudly.

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. "After today," he said, "You will not be so nosy."

With a careless flick of his wand, Danielle's own soared towards him and he caught it deftly. "After today, you will learn not to interfere with me."

_Damn right,_ she managed to think. Her brain seemed to have stopped working. How was it possible to defend herself with no wand?

Then the answer came to her with a burst of intuition. Not breaking eye contact, she tensed her knee and then kicked directly upward.

With a groan of pain, Riddle let go of her. Danielle seized both wands from him and shouted, " _Protego_!"

The force of the spell was such that Riddle was thrown backwards onto the floor. To Danielle's surprise, however, he didn't attempt to stand. His head was bowed, his hands gripping the tiles as if trying to hold himself up.

"Riddle?" Danielle asked uncertainly. For some reason, she wasn't as scared now as she had been when he'd lost his temper at the orphanage. Perhaps that was what kept her from running screaming out of the room.

A great tremor surged through the dark-haired boy, and he began to cough. The harsh, abrupt noises echoed throughout the bathroom. When he was finished, he took a great, shuddering breath. Danielle saw his face was covered in sweat, just as it had been in the library.

Riddle looked up at her. It seemed as if he was trying to speak, but all that came out was another dreadful cough. "Wand," he finally managed to choke out. "My wand…"

Danielle glanced down at the dark wand she held in her left hand. A peculiar electric current surged through her fingers, and her entire arm suddenly felt warm. "What are you doing?" she asked, panicked. "If you think I'm going to give you your wand back, Tom Riddle, you've got another think coming—"

"Please," he whispered.

The one syllable was perhaps one of the only words Danielle had heard him use truthfully. For a long moment, the two stared at each other—but this time, Riddle was the vulnerable one and Danielle held all the power.

Before she could unfreeze herself long enough to respond, several figures burst into the bathroom: Dippet, Dumbledore and Madam Cutteridge. All three had their wands raised and ready.

" _By Jove, what is going on here?"_ Dippet was the first to react. He was looking straight at Danielle, who realized too late that she was in a most suspicious position.

"I was protecting myself, Headmaster, honest!" she sad quickly. "Tom—he—" She jerked her head towards Riddle, who was being tended to by Madam Cutteridge.

"There is a Shield Charm between the two, Armando," Dumbledore observed, as calm as ever. "I think we can safely assume there is more to the story than there is at first glance."

Madam Cutteridge gasped. "Armando," she whispered. "The boy…"

Riddle had begun coughing again. His entire body shook with the force of the wracking coughs. "Fine," he managed to say. "I am fine."

"Mr Riddle, you are obviously _not_ fine," Madam Cutteridge said firmly. "You need to go to the hospital wing." She pulled him to his feet; he had to lean heavily on her for support.

This scared Danielle. "Here—here's your wand," she said to him, holding it out. _Are you mad?_ the logical part of her mind whispered.

But Dippet stopped Riddle from taking it. "I will take it," he said, snatching Riddle's wand from her outstretched fingers and pocketing it.

As if this was a trigger, Riddle began coughing again. He attempted to wrench himself from Madam Cutteridge's grip, but the nurse held him tightly. "Headmaster, he needs attention _now_ ," she said firmly.

"I will take care of Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said, putting a hand on Danielle's shoulder. "Go with Julia to the hospital wing, Armando."

Dippet looked unsure at first, but seeing that Madam Cutteridge and Riddle had already left, he nodded once and hurried after them.

"Shall we carry on to my office, Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked, looking graver now. Wordlessly, Danielle nodded and followed him numbly all the way to his office, at which point she broke down. "Tom…" she whispered, tears pouring down her face. "He…was going to kill me. Again…like the first time. I don't—I can't—" Her heart was pounding an uneven rhythm and the room appeared to be spinning. She felt as if she were hurtling towards the edge of a cliff with no way to stop or even slow down.

"I know what happens to him, Professor Dumbledore. What if he—he was going to open the—and I can't stand it, because I think I _fanc_ —"

"Drink this, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said finally, forcing something into her hands. Gulping, Danielle tried to drink but the liquid wouldn't go down her throat. Dumbledore murmured something under his breath and she felt herself automatically swallow.

Instantly, her mind cleared and her heart returned to its normal pace. The office stopped spinning crazily and she was taking deep, relaxed breaths.

"The wonders a simple Calming Draught can do," Dumbledore said placidly, taking the flask from Danielle's hands. "I daresay you needed one."

"Thank you," Danielle whispered.

"Now," Dumbledore said, settling back into his chair and lacing his fingertips, "I do not think it at all too much to ask, for starters, why you weren't at the Quidditch game with the rest of the school."

"I was," said Danielle. "But it was getting too cold, so I went inside."

"Ah," the professor replied sympathetically. "The game officially finished twenty minutes ago, by the way. Gryffindor won."

"That's too bad," said Danielle, though even under normal circumstances she couldn't have cared less.

"So you came inside," Dumbledore continued. Danielle could tell he was eager to get to the root of the matter. "And what happened next?"

Obediently, she recited all that had occurred since she'd seen Riddle and the strange way he'd acted towards her. "…I don't know what to do, Professor," she finished, the Calming Drought keeping her from having another nervous breakdown. "He was never like this before…I mean…before Christmas. It's just been recently…and I don't know why."

When she had finished, Dumbledore sat silently for a long time, so long that Danielle wondered if she'd said something wrong. "Miss Ashford," he finally began, sounding as though he was much older than he really was, "When you first appeared here, I was foolish enough to think that, as long as you didn't do anything to disrupt the timeline, everything would be fine. I was foolish enough to think that as long as you kept a low profile and didn't draw attention to yourself, you would be able to go back to the future and things would carry on as if nothing had happened."

Danielle bit her lip. "But I did, Professor. I tried my hardest to keep to myself and not cause trouble. It's just—Riddle took an interest in me because I was new, because I was different."

"Yes, and I should have known that from the start," said Dumbledore wearily. "Now, Miss Ashford, I fear you may have irrevocably destroyed the timeline."

There was a long silence. The Calming Drought must have been wearing off, because Danielle felt her heart rate spike again. "No," she gasped. "Professor—"

"Mr Riddle, as I learned just two weeks ago, is the unfortunate victim of an age-old curse," Dumbledore said, quelling Danielle into silence. "Ellen Cole told me about the strange circumstances surrounding his birth. As I am sure she has told you as well, Tom Riddle's maternal family, descended straight from Salazar Slytherin, suffers from a mysterious curse that eventually destroyed all his remaining descendants, or so the legend goes."

"The…legend?" Danielle asked weakly. "Sir, I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to," said Dumbledore. "The point is, Miss Ashford, _I was never supposed to know this_. I was never supposed to come to the orphanage to rescue you in the original timeline, and so should never have learned of his curse. Does that sound correct?"

She nodded mutely.

"Therefore, nobody should have stopped him from performing whatever he was about to do today, and we would be none the wiser. As it is, however, three staff members now know that things are not right with Tom Riddle." Dumbledore surveyed Danielle with an unfathomable expression.

"Can't you perform a Memory Charm on them, sir?" she asked, slightly desperately. "Make them forget this ever happened?"

"Perhaps I could on Madam Cutteridge, but Headmaster Dippet is an extremely accomplished wizard who will no doubt be able to defend himself. At any rate, even if I could, the consequences of being discovered will be, I fear, even more severe than if I do not take action."

Danielle felt what little stability she had slowly ebb away. "What happens now, then, sir?"

"We wait and see what happens," Dumbledore said. Seeing the look on her face, he added, "It might be that things are not as severe as you think, Miss Ashford. I am inclined to believe there is a reason for everything in life."

_Yeah, but you're not the one who probably destroyed the entire wizarding timeline._ "Professor?" she asked, feeling her breakfast swirl around in her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."

* * *

"Clara! Where on earth were you during the game?" Alyssa demanded as soon as Danielle arrived back in the Slytherin common room. "I saw you at the beginning, but then you suddenly disappeared."

"I wasn't feeling well," Danielle said. It wasn't really a lie—her now-empty stomach was still churning uncomfortably.

"We lost, in case you haven't noticed," Dylan said glumly from his spot on the couch, gesturing around the room. The Slytherins were all shooting their Quidditch team dark looks and giving them a wide berth.

"It was all Abraxas's fault," muttered Alyssa. "He didn't need to nearly break Potter's hand—he would've gotten the Snitch anyway."

"Yeah, it's all his fault," Danielle said distractedly. "Listen—I'm really tired. I'm going to go and sleep, okay?"

Dylan and Alyssa nodded. She noticed with some annoyance that they seemed more interested in what happened during the game than her.

Once she'd gotten to the dormitory, she curled up under the covers and closed her eyes wearily. Dumbledore had tried to comfort her after she'd vomited all over his desk, but she doubted any amount of words could help her now.

Not surprisingly, she found herself unable to sleep and soon settled for just staring up at the ceiling. Dumbledore had presumably gone to the hospital wing after she'd left. She wondered what their examination of Riddle would unveil. Dumbledore had been vague about his supposed "curse", just that it was somehow related to being a descendant of Slytherin.

_I'm the one who's cursed,_ Danielle thought angrily. _Just look at all the trouble I've gotten into over the past four months. What kind of average witch finds a Time-Turner on her front lawn anyway?_

The dormitory door opened and Alyssa poked her head in, a puzzled look on her face. "Clara?" she asked. "Apparently you're wanted in the hospital wing."

Danielle sat up. "What?"

"I dunno—Dylan was getting some food down in the kitchens and one of the house-elves said that when she was bringing food up to Tom Riddle, he was asking for you."

There was a loud thud as Danielle fell out of bed. "He was…asking…for me?" she choked, getting to her feet.

"Yeah. Why is he in the hospital wing anyway? He never gets sick."

"I have no idea," said Danielle as she rushed out the door.

"Hey! Why are you going so fast?" Alyssa called after her.

Danielle's energy seemed to have miraculously been renewed. Moving as fast as she possibly could without running, she left the common room and jogged up the several flights of stairs towards the hospital wing. Her mind was working a mile a minute. Why was Riddle asking about her? Should she have gone with Dumbledore? And the most important question—was it _safe_ to go and see him?

She finally stopped outside of the hospital wing doors. Now she was beginning to have doubts. Maybe she should just quietly make her way back to the dormitory—

But before she could make a decision, the doors swung open as if they had sensed her presence. Danielle took a step back.

"Miss Ashford?" Dippet said, surprised. He was standing just inside of the room. "Have you come to see Mr Riddle?"

"Yes, I mean, I heard he was asking for me," Danielle stuttered.

"He was, but I am afraid he is not very well," Dippet said. "Normally I wouldn't allow you in, but since he is sleeping at the moment…"

Feeling relieved, Danielle thanked him and stepped past into the room. All the beds were empty except for a curtained one at the very end.

Madam Cutteridge and Dumbledore were speaking in low voices outside the door to her office. Dumbledore noticed Danielle first, and she could have sworn he smiled.

"Miss Ashford!" Madam Cutteridge said, sounding shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard Tom was asking for me," Danielle said, deliberately using his first name. "I wanted to see how he was doing."

"Miss Ashford, Mr Riddle is not in a very good position to receive visitors at the moment—"

"Let her see him, Julia," Dumbledore interrupted. "He is sleeping, after all."

Madam Cutteridge gave him an annoyed look before striding over to Riddle's bed. "Whatever you do, don't wake him up," she instructed, pulling back the curtain to allow Danielle through.

At first she didn't want to look at him, but what choice did she have? Danielle swallowed hard and let herself stare.

Riddle's skin, normally so pale, was now an ashy grey color. His eyes were closed, but not peacefully—Danielle suspected they had to have forcefully rendered him unconscious. He looked much younger than he normally did while awake.

There was a chair by the side of the bed. Danielle quietly lowered herself into it, all the while never taking her eyes off of him. She was reminded of the morning after the air raid—he had looked similarly then, though perhaps not quite as ill.

The smell of fresh bread reached her nose. She glanced over at his bedside table, where an untouched loaf of bread lay. Even though she had just expelled the contents of her stomach not an hour earlier, she had to admit she _was_ hungry.

She silently tore a piece off of it and then proceeded to eat happily, feeling considerably more cheerful.

That is, until someone spoke. "Miss Ashford, would you _kindly_ explain to me why you are eating my food?"

Danielle stopped mid-chew to stare in horror at Riddle, who had somehow awoke during the past two minutes and was now staring at her. "I'm hungry," she finally said, somewhat defensively.

"So you feel the need to just take whatever is closest to you?" There was no trace of red in his eyes now; they were now just a seemingly bottomless blue.

"Well, yes," said Danielle as if they were merely having a conversation in a classroom, not while he was lying in a bed in the hospital wing. " _You_ weren't going to eat it anyway."

Riddle opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, then thought better of it.

"Anyway, I'm here because you supposedly asked for me," Danielle said, watching him carefully. "Is that true?"

He paused before answering. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, when I found myself in the hospital wing with no knowledge of how I had gotten there, I assumed you had something to do with it."

Danielle scowled.

"How much did they find out?" Riddle asked. An odd emotion was alight in his eyes now. "What did they say to you?"

"I—er—don't think I'm really allowed to say this—" Danielle stuttered.

He surveyed her for a second, then finally said, "You know everything."

"Not _everything_ ," she said in spite of herself. "Just the—"

"I attacked you, did I not?" Riddle interrupted her. "At the orphanage, I attacked you. I tried to kill you. I tried to kill you earlier today, too. Is that not what happened?"

Danielle didn't answer.

"I knew it," he said almost to himself, his eyes unfocused. "I suspected it. You have been acting differently towards me."

"It's my fault, though," Danielle said. "If I hadn't provoked you at the orphanage, and followed you today—"

"You foolish girl," Riddle said with more venom than she'd expected, focusing his gaze on her again. "You think you had anything to do with the outcome of today?"

"Yes," Danielle said, feeling wounded. "If I—" She realized that she would be giving away too much if she told him that it was all her fault.

"I would have been caught sometime, whether you were there or not," Riddle said, his tone still acerbic. "It has been nearly five years. I was fortunate enough to not have been discovered so far."

Not sure what to say, Danielle kept silent. He was revealing more than she had expected him to. But to him, it must seem as if he was cornered now, with no way of getting out.

"You know everything about Slytherin's curse, then, I presume?" Riddle asked her now. "Dumbledore must have told you."

"He…really didn't tell me much," Danielle admitted. "He was more interested in the fact that I had…" _Destroyed the future._

"What?" Riddle asked, noticing her trailing off.

"I nearly fainted," Danielle said. "He was more interested in the fact that I nearly had a mental breakdown."

Riddle was silent. "I…am sorry," he said at last.

Danielle blinked several times. "W—what?"

"You heard me perfectly well, Miss Ashford," he replied.

_Voldemort just_ apologized _to me. What is the world coming to?_ "You're…sorry for what you did?" Danielle asked blankly.

"It was never my wish to bring you into my problems," Riddle said. "I did not want anyone to know of my fate. They would treat me…differently."

"Your fate?" Danielle asked. "What are you talking about?"

Almost instantly, a shadow crossed over his face. "Nothing," he said flatly, acting more like the Riddle she knew. "It is of no importance."

Danielle was confused. "Tom, I…"

" _Tom_?" he asked, his jaw clenching. "You are calling me _Tom_ now?"

"No," Danielle said quickly. "I was just—"

"If you want to know about what will happen to me, how about you go to the library and read about the curse?" Riddle hissed, his rapid mood change making her head spin. "Then you can tell all your friends about how unfortunate Tom Riddle is, and treat me like I am a helpless _infant_ for the remainder of school!"

Danielle was so surprised she stood up. She wasn't worried about his Voldemort side taking over; she was more stung that she had made him angry. "Fine," she said. "Maybe I will."

Dumbledore was standing at the window, whistling merrily. He smiled at Danielle as she stalked away from Riddle's bed. "You were there for quite a while," he remarked.

"He's awake," she growled.

"Is he?" Dumbledore asked, looking surprised. "I assure you, I did not hear a word of your conversation."

"He's in a bad mood," Danielle said. "Just so you know."

Dumbledore stopped smiling and his gaze turned serious. "Did anything happen, Miss Ashford?" he asked.

"No, I just ruined what was _almost_ a friendly conversation," Danielle said. She turned on her heel and ran out of the hospital wing before she really began crying.


	25. Vetus Periculosus

As soon as she got to the library, Danielle wished she had brought along her Invisibility Cloak. Two figures were closely entwined against one of the bookshelves—one with mahogany hair and the other white-blond.

Olive Hornby and Abraxas Malfoy looked very annoyed at Danielle's appearance. "What are you doing here, Ashford?" Olive snapped, pulling her face back from Malfoy's long enough to glare at her victim. "Shouldn't you be out with Tom or something?"

"Very funny," said Danielle, trying to pretend they weren't there.

"Let's go, Olive," said Malfoy, looking at Danielle as if she was something unpleasant oozing up the wall. "Somewhere where we _won't_ be disturbed."

Olive nodded and the two of them swept out of the library, pushing past Danielle. She felt a slow, burning anger in the pit of her stomach. "Guess it won't be a good idea to go into the girls' dormitory for another couple of hours," she said to herself, shooting the retreating couple a death glare.

It soon became clear, however, that she wouldn't even be leaving the _library_ for another couple of hours. She realized she had absolutely no idea what books she should be looking for, and so was reduced to scouring the shelves for titles that might be of interest.

There was a reference in _Hogwarts, a History_ to "Salazar Slytherin's darkest and most infamous magical curse" but that was all Danielle found.

She'd almost given up hope when she saw that the entrance to the Restricted Section was slightly open, and Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. If there _were_ books about the curse at Hogwarts—and Riddle had said there were—they would be there.

Danielle pulled out her wand and whispered, " _Abscondo!"_

An odd feeling, almost as though she were being doused in cold water, coursed through her body as the Disillusionment Charm shielded her from view. It was a very rudimentary job—she wasn't sure how good her spell had been—but hopefully it would do its purpose.

As Danielle had suspected, some careless person had left the door to the Restricted Section open. She prayed it wouldn't creak as she slipped through it.

Here were the books she wanted. _Ancient and Vile Deeds of the Fourteenth Century…Magick Moste Evile…A Concise List of Dark Curses…_ there! Danielle grabbed the third volume she saw and balanced the ancient, heavy book in her hands, trying not to sneeze.

"Is anyone here?" Madam Pince called from somewhere outside.

"Bloody hell," Danielle mumbled. Stuffing _A Concise List of Dark Curses_ under her jumper, she hurried out of the Restricted Section, pausing only to lock the door behind her and lift the Disillusionment Charm.

"It's just me, Madam Pince," Danielle said politely as Madam Pince rounded the corner, feeling the book press against her chest. "I was about to finish a Potions essay."

The librarian scowled at her, but could apparently find no reason to complain. Danielle smiled widely. With a _humph_ , she stalked off to find some other poor student to harass.

As soon as she had disappeared, Danielle nearly sprinted away from the Restricted Section and out of the library, running down the stairs so fast she almost tripped on several occasions. She didn't stop until she was safely inside the Slytherin common room.

Surprisingly, there was no one there. Danielle was confused until she realized it was after six o'clock; everyone must be upstairs eating dinner. That was a luxury she couldn't afford, however—she had limited time to peruse the book and return it to the library. Two hours, in fact.

Collapsing onto the nearest couch, she flipped the book open and scanned the index for the name "Slytherin." To her relief, the book appeared to have several pages devoted entirely to him. She'd picked the right one.

Hands shaking, Danielle turned the pages until she saw what she was searching for: a portrait of a short, monkey-like man with a long gray beard and dark eyes. He sneered at her as if he knew exactly what she was doing.

_The Vetus Periculosus curse, rumored to have been invented by Salazar Slytherin*, is one of the most mysterious Dark curses known to wizardkind today. Though it has been studied at great length, much of its history still remains a secret._

_Heinrich Schefflur, a researcher of ancient curses at Germany's Zaubererschule in Berlin, states that "To perform the curse, one must have created multiple Horcruxes and be an experienced practitioner of the Dark Arts. The incantation is still unknown, though the general consensus is it must be performed non-verbally to have any effect on its intended victim."_

_According to Schefflur, the effects of the curse are slow; it can take years before signs start showing themselves. Similar to the Muggle ailment multiple personality disorder, sufferers of Vetus Periculosus appear to have a split personality. One side is their normal self; but there is a monster-like tendency always lurking beneath the surface. Strong bursts of emotion, such as anger or sadness, can trigger their "opposite self", so to speak, and they will become a monster. Victims have been known to kill themselves, commit murder, and perform acts of magic that would be impossible in their normal state. No amount of coaxing or talking will get the victim to snap out of it. Some episodes have been known to last days, others only a few seconds. In rare cases, however, the victim has enough mental control to be able to repress the curse in very mild episodes. After, they will have no memory whatsoever of the incident._

_Schefflur's research has also showed that aside from the victim's unstable mental nature, the curse has a physical effect. This typically comes into play after a particularly violent episode. Excessive bouts of vomiting, bleeding and coughing usually occur. As the curse gets stronger and stronger, the physical strength of the victim weakens until their eventual premature death. In fact, no documented victims of the curse have lived more than twenty years after it is first cast._

_Schefflur believes that Vetus Periculosus is hereditary as well: if a sufferer fathers or gives birth to a baby, their offspring will be born with the curse and will therefore not live past twenty years of age._

_Due to the violent nature of the curse, all sufferers are to be reported immediately to the law._

_Vetus Periculosus has no known cure._

_*One legend states that Slytherin originally cast Vetus Periculosus on his son after he failed to obey his father's orders and fell in love with Helena Ravenclaw. The two had an illegitimate child together; therefore, all remaining descendants of Slytherin have the curse. But his line is largely believed to have died out, thus marking the claim as no more than a myth._

Danielle had to read through the passage several times before she began to comprehend what she had just read. Things were beginning to fall into place. Riddle's odd behavior finally had an explanation.

It did raise one main question, though: If victims could only live for up to twenty years, how had Riddle survived to become Voldemort? Had he somehow found a way around the curse?

The door to the common room swung open and Danielle quickly stuffed the book under the couch cushion. But it was just Dylan, still looking miserable.

"Hey, Clara," he said wearily, coming over and sitting down beside her. "Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I wasn't hungry," Danielle lied as her stomach growled loudly.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah—don't worry about me." She managed to grin.

"Maybe you should get something anyway. Lyssa said you weren't feeling very well."

"I'm better now," Danielle told him. "It's fine. So, how was dinner?"

"Everyone was talking about Riddle. Apparently he's in the hospital wing."

"Really?" Danielle tried her best to look surprised.

"Nobody knows why, either. He's never been there for as long as I can remember. In fact, I don't think I ever remember him being ill." Dylan frowned.

"Perhaps he's paying for it now," Danielle mumbled. She wished he would change the subject. Her heart hurt every time she thought of Riddle.

Luckily, Dylan seemed to sense Danielle wasn't interested in the topic. He lapsed into silence and the two of them sat quietly for a number of minutes.

"Clara?" he finally asked, clearing his throat. "Do you—do you fancy anyone?"

Taken by surprise, Danielle looked up. "Do I fancy anyone?" she repeated. "Er…"

"I was just wondering," Dylan said, his face turning red. "I mean—not that I actually care or not, it's just—"

"Yes you do, Dylan," Danielle replied, watching him turn steadily redder. "You still fancy me."

He ducked his head, ashamed. She reached over and turned his face to meet hers. "Honestly, I don't know what to say," she said.

"You can say you fancy me back," Dylan replied, giving her a crooked smile.

Danielle wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but suddenly she found her lips were on his, and he was pulling her closer. _Is this really my third kiss in a month?_ she thought idly. _Am I suddenly more attractive as a Slytherin? In Ravenclaw the boys would barely give me the time of day._

But as Dylan deepened the kiss, something recoiled inside her and she pulled back. "I…I don't…" she stuttered. "I just don't fancy you, Dylan. I've told you this before."

Disappointment showed clearly on his features. "I know," he said quietly. "I just thought that…if I gave you some time to think…"

"It's never going to change," she whispered. "You're one of my best friends, but that's all you're ever going to be."

Dylan released his grip on her, and Danielle stood up. "I'm sorry, Dylan," she whispered, and fled the room.

It wasn't until she was safely outside before she realized that in her haste to leave she'd left her book still stuffed under the cushions. She couldn't very well go back and get it, could she? Well, actually, she _could_ , but her cowardly side refused to go back and face Dylan.

Danielle didn't pay attention to where she was going until she found herself outside of the hospital wing. Her unconscious mind knew her better than she wished it did.

 _Yes, I do fancy someone,_ she thought to herself. _I fancy the last person alive who will return my feelings._

She pushed open the door warily, not sure what to expect. The hospital wing was just as empty as it had been that afternoon. Riddle's bed still had curtains drawn around it.

"Hello?" Danielle called, but there was no answer. She slowly walked over to the one occupied bed, all the while keeping an eye out for Dippet or Dumbledore.

They weren't anywhere in sight, though she could hear Madam Cutteridge bustling away in her office.

Carefully, Danielle opened the curtain flap and peered down at Riddle. He was asleep again, looking vaguely more peaceful. She was relieved to see the ashy tinge was gone from his skin.

One of his hands was clenched in a tight fist. Moving as silently as she could, Danielle knelt down and took his hand, unclenching his limp fingers so they lay flat on the sheets. She meant to let go quickly, but she found herself just kneeling there, his hand in hers. It was unnaturally cold, she thought, almost as if he was…but no, there was a pulse beating steadily in his wrist.

"Tom," she breathed. "Out of all the boys here, why does it have to be _you_?"

* * *

When Tom awoke, he felt as if something had changed. The curtains around his bed were slightly open and the chair had moved several feet to the left. Who had visited him? Not Madam Cutteridge, surely—ever since Dippet had told her about his _condition_ , she had refused to see him alone. The foolish woman had taken to magically levitating his sleeping potion onto his bedside table.

Perhaps Dumbledore (Tom felt disgusted at allowing himself to be completely vulnerable in front of that man) or Dippet had come to see him. That was hardly logical, though. Neither of them would have sat down and watched him sleep. Unless they were performing tests on him…

Tom resisted the urge to shudder, feeling the first stirrings of anger. Dippet had taken his wand; he didn't suppose he would be getting it back voluntarily any time soon. It was up to him to reclaim what was rightfully his.

For the first time, Tom noticed a folded piece of paper on the bedside table. Suspiciously, he reached for it, hating the fact that he did not have his wand to defend himself in case it was cursed.

But as soon as he saw the writing inside, his other thoughts vanished to be replaced by surprise.

_Riddle,_

_I wanted to apologize for earlier today. If it hadn't been for my "meddling in your affairs," as you yourself stated, I would have been blissfully ignorant of your "condition" and you wouldn't be in the hospital wing. I do believe I have made everything far more complicated than it should be._

_Clara Ashford_

Tom stared at her words, not entirely sure what to make of them. Stupid girl…he had already told her it was not her fault. And now here she was, apologizing like everything that happened in his life revolved around her.

She must have come in again while he was asleep. The idea of her being there while he was weak and defenseless admittedly angered him, but he couldn't muster up the courage to feel as disgusted as if Dumbledore had been the one there.

He folded up the note neatly and tucked it inside his jacket pocket. There was something about that tiny, insignificant piece of paper that made him want to hold onto it. Had she somehow charmed it into making him want to keep it?

Tom sat up in bed, feeling as though he had just been hit with a particularly nasty spell. After each episode of the curse, he always felt as though he could barely move. Madam Cutteridge's potions had helped some, but not enough. With a slight sneer, he thought that seeing as how Hogwarts was funded by the Ministry, they could at least hire a more competent matron. Even Clara Ashford could probably do a better job of Healing than Julia Cutteridge.

He had long ago grasped the fact that the carnal part of himself wanted the girl. Every time she was around him he found himself looking at her. Every time she moved even the slightest bit his eyes were upon her, imagining what it would be like if she was completely and totally under his control…Clara Ashford hypnotized him in a way no other female had ever done before. Once she was on his side, the possibilities would be endless. The two of them would be unstoppable, an invincible force. Tom smiled. Even though the curse dictated that he would only live for another four years, he wasn't planning on dying. As soon as he created his first Horcrux, his soul would split and he would therefore be immortal. Then he could truly call himself the most powerful Dark wizard to ever walk the earth.

Something inside of him attempted to stir up, but Tom quickly forced it back down. After sixteen years of living with a monster inside of him, he had learned to control his "opposite side" for the most part. It was just strong emotions that caught him off guard, anger being the most prominent one. What had he been thinking about that triggered it today? The last thing he remembered before waking up in the hospital wing had been sitting in the Slytherin common room, thinking about Clara Ashford with Dylan MacDougal…

A hot, powerful surge of anger washed through him, and Tom had to clench his hands tightly to stop himself. The image of the two of them kissing at the train station seemed to be permanently etched into his brain, appearing at the most inopportune moments. In fact, the two of them could be together at that very moment.

Tom had had enough. He got out of bed and non-verbally cast a Silencing Charm so that Madam Cutteridge would not hear him leave. Even though he did not currently have a wand, his abilities were strong enough that he could perform spells without one. What fifth-year student in the history of Hogwarts could ever say _that?_

He easily made his way out of the hospital wing without the matron noticing he was gone. Once he was out in the corridor he lifted the spell and headed downstairs, toward the place he knew Clara Ashford would be.

The Prefects' common room turned out to be deserted, save for a lone figure sitting in the armchair by the window. Tom watched her for a moment before clearing his throat.

She spun around quickly, and her eyes widened when she saw him. "Good evening, Miss Ashford," he said, walking over to her.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing. "How did you escape from the hospital wing?"

"I have ways," he told her. "I came here to ask you exactly _why_ you wrote me this note." He pulled the small piece of paper out of his jacket pocket.

She stared at it as though deliberating what to say. "It's an apology."

"I am aware of that," he replied. "But have I not already told you that it is not your fault? Must I explain once again?"

With baleful eyes, she shrank back into her chair. Tom noticed with amusement she was watching him rather as if they were playing a game of cat-and-mouse. "As your memory appears to be failing you, I will tell you that—"

"I know what you said," she responded. "My question is, what is Dippet going to do to you now that he knows?"

The exasperating feeling of not having an adequate reply burned inside Tom's chest. "He will presumably send me to St Mungo's," he said tonelessly. "In his mind, I am a danger to students and will most likely harm one of them if I am not closely monitored."

Amusement flickered in her eyes. What could she possibly find so humorous? "And you're just going to sit back and let that happen?" she asked.

"I have no other choice," he said, though it was a lie. He had many ideas on how to stay in Hogwarts, the least of which was opening the Chamber of Secrets.

"Liar," the curly-haired girl replied, a slight smirk pulling at her lips. "You're going to find a way to stop that from happening."

How was it she could read his intentions like an open book? It unsettled him—or at least it had used to. Now all he was feeling was curiosity. "I can do nothing, Miss Ashford," he said, his voice muted.

"Like I just said, you're a liar, Tom Riddle," she said flippantly.

He merely looked at her, keeping his face blank. A ray of light from the setting sun was shining in through the window and illuminating her face in a most interesting way. "I daresay you will have another Prefect soon," he said, more as a way of distracting himself than anything else. "Perhaps Mr MacDougal will be appointed next."

"Dylan is far too careless to be a Prefect," the girl said, an odd look on her face.

"And you are not?" Tom asked.

"No," she said, and smiled for the first time that day.

Something about that moment struck him. Their faces were abnormally close—Tom had unconsciously moved closer to her during their conversation—and all of a sudden, he had a sudden urge to kiss her.

It was probably the most unnatural thing he had ever experienced in his life. It clouded his judgment and removed the logical part of his brain, which of course was the _only_ part of his brain worth having.

His fellow Prefect looked as surprised as he did, but she managed to cover it up quickly. She swung her legs over the side of the chair and got to her feet. "I—I guess I'd better go," she said, running her hand through her tangled hair nervously. Had she felt what he had? "And…maybe you should go back to the hospital wing. You'll get into a lot of trouble if Madam Cutteridge finds you missing."

Tom nodded, though he hadn't heard a word she said. "Good night, Miss Ashford," he said mechanically.

She made to leave, but hesitated, biting her lip. "One more thing…"

"Yes?"

"I might not be allowed to call you Tom, but you can call me Clara." She attempted to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Then she was gone.

Tom sat down on the chair Ashford— _Clara_ —had just vacated. He remembered his outburst from that afternoon and felt a relatively unknown emotion: shame. He hated his name, absolutely _loathed_ it. Tom Riddle…it was so plain, so _Muggle_ -like.

But if that was the case, why did it sound better in _her_ voice?

 _You are becoming weaker,_ a phantom whisper hissed. _You are growing too fond of the girl. Let her go._

Tom dug his fingers into the palms of his hand. Clara Ashford was becoming his greatest weakness, that was true. Something he was not even sure of himself was drawing them ever closer. But it did not matter what that was. He had to sever the ties between them before… _what_ , exactly, was happening? Was this some side effect of Vetus Periculosus?

Maybe she was right. It _was_ all her fault. She was weakening him, speeding up the effects of the curse rather than slowing them down. Thoughts of her were what was triggering the incidents.

Only one thing could be done now. Tom had to eliminate her.

And he knew exactly how to do that.


	26. Flooding

The dreams had started again.

_She was in a strange house, being held by an old woman who was trembling in fear and panic. "Patrick, where are you?" the woman asked nervously. She shifted Danielle to her other arm and stroked her hair. "Patrick?" she called again, her voice high-pitched. "Where are—"_

_There was a loud crash and the door swung open, slamming loudly against the wall. Danielle began to cry, burying her face into the woman's shoulder._

" _Stay where you are!" a harsh male voice commanded. There was a flash of light and the woman screamed. "Leave us alone!" she shrieked._

" _Don't speak until you're spoken to, you filthy Muggle!" the man ordered. There was a bang and the woman yelled again. Danielle cried harder. "Get the baby to shut up, Selwyn," he muttered. Suddenly, her howls stopped. She tried as hard as she could to scream, but no sound came out._

" _What do you want from us?" the woman asked, her voice shaking as she retreated into the back corner, keeping a firm grip on Danielle. "Where's Patrick?"_

_There was a short laugh. "Your husband is still alive, don't worry. He won't be for much longer, however. If you give us the correct information you might be allowed to see him one last time."_

" _I have no information!" the woman screeched, ignoring Danielle's violent struggles to escape. "You have the wrong people!"_

" _Where did you get the baby from, then?" the first man demanded. "Why is it magical but you aren't?"_

" _She's my granddaughter," the woman sobbed, slumping to the floor. Danielle turned her head and caught a glimpse of two black-robed men advancing upon them. "Please—her parents sent her here, to Paris—"_

" _What is your name?" Selwyn asked._

_"Matilda," she said breathlessly. "Matilda Richardson."_

_"Not your married name," the first man hissed. "Your birth name."_

_But she was silent and refused to answer._

" _Look, Yaxley, a stubborn Muggle," Selwyn said mockingly. "Just like mules, they are—Crucio!"_

_There was a flash of red light and the woman was on the floor, screaming. Danielle fell out of her arms, silent tears running down her face. She got clumsily to her feet and tried to run, but Yaxley flicked his wand lazily and she went flying back into the wall. "Stupid baby," he muttered._

" _Your birth name!" Selwyn was yelling at the woman. He lifted his wand and Matilda slumped onto the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Or would you like this done the hard way? Believe me, there's more where that came from!"_

" _It was Stubbs," she choked out, lifting her head from the floor. "Matilda Stubbs."_

_The two men exchanged a glance. "It's her," Yaxley muttered. "Go bring the other Muggle in and we'll finish here quickly."_

_Selwyn nodded and left. Yaxley kept his wand trained on Matilda, who didn't seem about to move anytime soon. She was crying hysterically. "Elizabeth," she sobbed. "Oh, Lizzie, I'm sorry. I tried to keep her safe!"_

" _What is the baby's name?" Yaxley asked menacingly. "You better tell me the truth, or you know what will happen."_

" _Danielle Elizabeth Bailey," Matilda sobbed. "I promised to keep her safe. Don't hurt her, please!"_

" _Your daughter is Elizabeth Bailey and your son-in-law is Robert Bailey. They are still in England, correct?"_

_Matilda nodded._

_Yaxley sneered. "Then I might as well tell you that your grandson William is dead. He was killed yesterday."_

" _No!" she gasped. "What about—"_

" _They escaped," Yaxley said. "But you haven't, and their second child hasn't." He shifted his gaze to Danielle. "I understand dear Elizabeth is expecting her third child. But with luck, she soon won't be any longer. It will be like, as you Muggles say, killing two birds with one stone. Convenient, isn't it?"_

" _You're a vile, twisted man," Matilda hissed. "This is all because Elizabeth is a witch, isn't it?"_

_"Partly," Yaxley agreed. "She and her husband are Mudbloods, the scum of the wizarding world. They might have escaped though, if it hadn't been that the Dark Lord personally ordered your entire family's slaughter. Your brother was the first to go, wasn't he? He had the honor of being killed by the Dark Lord personally—"_

_"Shut up," Matilda hissed. "Just shut up!"_

_Yaxley's face darkened and he took a step toward her, but was thwarted by the reappearance of Selwyn, dragging an old man behind him. "Patrick Richardson, as requested," he said, shoving the man in Matilda's direction. He was gagged and his hands were tied behind his back._

" _Patrick!" Matilda gasped, attempting to sit up. "Oh God—what did they do to you?"_

_The man's anxious eyes were darting back and forth between her and Danielle. He seemed to be trying to talk through his gag._

" _There, I think that was a happy enough reunion, don't you?" Yaxley asked. He raised his wand._

" _Not Danielle!" Matilda pleaded before he could cast the spell. "Whatever you do, please don't kill her! She's magical! Isn't that what you want?"_

_Selwyn laughed, raising his wand as well. "Her parents are Mudbloods. Therefore, she is nothing more than a Muggle in my opinion. But we_ will _save her for last."_

_Danielle curled up into a ball and screamed, still silently, for her parents._

" _Avada Kedavra!" the two men yelled in unison. There was the brightest flash of light yet, a green radiance that lit up the entire room for a split second._

_Then all she heard was laughter._

* * *

"ASHFORD, SHUT UP!"

Danielle sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off of her. The terrified screams of Matilda Stubbs still echoed around the dormitory.

"What the _hell_ are you playing at?" Olive shouted. "If you don't stop this, I'm going to go to the Headmaster and ask him to move you!"

Danielle was not recovered yet enough to speak. She looked over at Alyssa, who stared back with wide eyes. "You sounded like you were being murdered, Clara," she said. "None of us could wake you up. It was scary."

"What was I screaming?" Danielle asked hoarsely.

" _Don't kill her_ ," Alyssa replied, looking shaken. "Clara—"

"I'm going back to bed," she said abruptly. With a flick of her wand, she drew the curtains back around her bed and then cast a Silencing Charm, just in case she began screaming again.

That had been the worst dream of all. For the past week, Danielle had been haunted in her sleep by flashes of memories from her childhood. Tonight, however, all the pieces had come together to form one nightmare.

Danielle shut her eyes again, but she knew sleep would not come so easily. Sluggishly, her mind was beginning to fit pieces of the puzzle together. There was much she still didn't know, and she had only a warped version of the true answer.

One thing was clear, though: as soon as morning came, she would go straight to the Owlery and write to Billy Stubbs.

* * *

Surprisingly, Danielle got maybe a half hour of dreamless sleep before she woke up for good. Once she'd checked that her Silencing Charm was still functioning, she got dressed and then quickly stole out of the room.

It had been a week since she'd learned about Riddle's curse. In fact, it had been a week since she'd even _seen_ him. According to Dippet, he was "very ill" and no one was allowed to go and visit. As a result, many rumors were now flying all around the school, most of them having to do with Danielle. She could barely walk down the hallway without people scurrying away or hiding, since the majority of the students now believed that _she_ had somehow cursed Riddle and was more than happy to do the same to them.

Under normal circumstances, alienation by ninety-nine percent of the school would have bothered Danielle, but she had more pressing things to worry about. She knew for sure now she had changed the future. Dumbledore had told her as much, and the past little while had confirmed it. She felt terrible every time he spoke to her. Even though he had reassured her that it would have been impossible to somehow _not_ affect the future, she still knew it was her fault. The twinkle had all but disappeared from his eyes now and there was no spark or energy in his lessons now; instead he was grim and visibly exhausted. Danielle knew he was working as hard as he possibly could to undo what she had done. Sometimes she wondered whether he oughtn't to have just locked her up in a room for the duration of her stay in the past, with no social contact whatsoever. It would have been better for all concerned.

Tears pricked at Danielle's eyes as she made her way towards the Owlery. It seemed as if she'd cried more in the past four and a half months than she had in her entire life. _Crying won't solve anything,_ she tried to tell herself firmly. So why couldn't she stop the tears?

Luckily, no one was up yet at that ungodly hour, so Danielle was left to cry in peace inside the Owlery. The owls called softly over her head and swooped around, ignoring her presence.

When she was finished, she took a deep, shaky breath. She hated what she'd been reduced to. She hated everything. She hated everyone. She hated herself.

As if reminding her of her original purpose, a large barn owl landed beside her and hooted loudly. Danielle reached out a hand to stroke its head, feeling an odd sense of comfort. Were animals her only friends now? Even Alyssa and Dylan were acting strangely.

She got to her feet, wiping her eyes, and pulled a quill and piece of parchment out of her pocket. The owl watched her intently as she scrawled a quick letter to Billy:

_Hello, Billy! Sorry I haven't written to you until now—everything has just been so busy with school starting again. How are you?_

_I have a quick question to ask: You once mentioned that you had a younger sister, but that you'd never met her and you didn't know where she was. What was her name? I'd be really interested to know. (An explanation will hopefully follow.)_

_Say hello to Mrs Cole for me!_

_Clara_

There were inkblots smudged all over the paper from her hasty writing, but it was still legible. Danielle folded up the letter and held out her arm for the owl to fly up onto. "I want this delivered to Billy Stubbs, at Vauxhall Orphanage in London. Get his reply as soon as you can, OK? I promise I'll give you plenty of treats."

The barn owl hooted once in reply as if it had understood every word, and gracefully swooped out of the window. Danielle watched it until it was a mere speck in the distance, feeling panic seize around her heart. She both needed and dreaded Billy's answer.

On her way back to the Slytherin common room, Danielle was nearly run over by Myrtle Pratt, whom she'd barely seen since before Christmas. "Hello, Myrtle," she said, surprised, as the younger girl sprinted past her.

"C—Clara!" Myrtle yelped. Danielle noticed her brown eyes were wide with fright and her glasses were falling off. "You have to help me!"

"What's wrong?" Danielle asked, confused.

"I—I woke up in the bathroom and I don't know how I got there and there's a—a _thing_ in there!"

"What? What thing?" Danielle demanded. "Which bathroom?"

"The second-floor girls' one where you found me once before! Something was in there. It was hissing and it _slithered_!" Myrtle seemed very close to fainting.

"Go back to your dormitory," Danielle ordered at once, pulling out her wand.

"Huh?"

" _Get back to your dormitory, Myrtle!_ "

"Don't go there alone, Clara!" the Ravenclaw urged, grabbing Danielle's sleeve. "Get a teacher or—"

Her words went unheard, however, as Danielle was already running towards the staircase. "Come back!" Myrtle called, jogging after her.

As soon as she got to the second floor, Danielle knew something was wrong. A large puddle of water glistened on the ground outside of the bathroom, reflecting her scared outline back at her. _"Protego!_ " she murmured. "Didn't I tell you to go back to your dormitory, Myrtle?"

"I'm coming with you," the other girl said, pale but fierce.

"Then you have to stay behind me at all times, and keep your wand out," Danielle ordered, feeling her Shield Charm expand to cover Myrtle as well.

The water sloshed beneath their feet as they crept closer toward the bathroom. Danielle was poised for any sign of an attack, though she knew exactly what would happen.

By the time they had reached the bathroom, the puddle was now knee-deep. Several of the sinks had broken and were gushing water. Danielle strained her ears, but could not hear any hissing or slithering noises.

From behind her, Myrtle squeaked. "Look!" she cried, pointing at something to their right. Danielle turned and saw that in the place of one of the basins, there was now a large black chasm.

"Now I want you to go and get a professor," the Prefect instructed. "Dumbledore if you can. Go!"

With a nervous glance back at Danielle, Myrtle turned and splashed out of the room, screaming "HELP!" as she went.

So this was it. Riddle had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Danielle sloshed over to the tunnel entrance and peered down into the abyss. It was pitch-black and probably filthy. Riddle was down there right now, giving the basilisk instructions on exactly who to kill first. How had he escaped from the hospital wing?

"It was not that hard," a familiar voice said from behind her. Danielle spun around to see Riddle himself leaning against one of the sinks, where he had certainly not been before. "All I needed was a diversion. It was rather grand, too. I quite regret that you were not able to witness it."

His eyes were bright red; she could see that from this distance. The curse was controlling him—at least for now. Was the "real" Tom in there, watching helplessly as this unfolded? Or had he been entirely swallowed by…whatever was in control?

"I knew you would come running as soon as poor Miss Pratt found you," Riddle continued. He sloshed through the water towards Danielle, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "My plan worked perfectly."

"Dumbledore's coming, you know," Danielle said, her voice wavering. "You won't be able to—"

"He will not come fast enough, little girl," Riddle laughed. He was still walking towards her. "By then, I shall be safely hidden in the Chamber—and who knows where you will be?"

Something knocked Danielle's wand out of her hand. It clattered to the ground, where the current proceeded to wash it down the tunnel entrance. "What say you, though, Clara? How about we go get your wand, first?" Riddle asked lightly, stopping right behind her. "Would you like that?"

"Get away from me," Danielle said, though she knew any resistance was futile.

Riddle wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, pulling her to him. "I will make sure the basilisk does not hurt you," he said, as his mouth brushed across her ear. "In fact, I will make sure _anyone_ does not hurt you, my dear Clara."

"Go—" Danielle began, but Riddle lightly brushed his fingers across her mouth to stop her.

"Hush," he said. "There will be time for talking later."

Before she could struggle away, he moved over to the Chamber entrance and readjusted his grip on her before he let them plunge down into the abyss.


	27. The Chamber of Secrets

It was a surprisingly short, quick fall down to the bottom. Danielle screamed as she caught sight of a hard stone floor rushing up to meet them, but her cries were lost in the rush of air.

Riddle must have cast a spell to soften their landing, because she was barely jostled as they landed lightly upon the floor.

As soon as she could, Danielle forcibly wrenched herself away from him and dropped to her knees, searching for her wand.

"Looking for this?" Riddle asked politely, holding out a wand in front of her. Danielle immediately snatched it from him, vaguely surprised that he was giving it back to her so easily.

"Can I try something, Tom?" she asked, tightening her grip on her wand.

His eyes gleamed. "Certainly, dear Clara. However, you must remember that I possess a wand as well, and that I am infinitely more powerful than you."

"Oh, I know," Danielle said through gritted teeth. She saw him raise his own wand, and opening her mouth as if she were going to shout a spell, she curled her fingers into a fist and punched him in the face.

Riddle, being as Muggle-scorning as he was, did not expect Danielle to resort to fighting such a "primitive" way and so was momentarily stunned. While his hands flew to his nose and mouth, she had already taken off sprinting towards the nearest exit. The room, which appeared to be some sort of antechamber, was only dimly lit by a greenish light and so was difficult to see clearly. But Danielle had spotted an opening in the stone.

Just as she was about to jump through it, she heard a loud crack as if something had snapped and unbelievable pain shot through her leg. She shrieked and fell hard onto the ground, her leg ablaze with pain.

"Defy me one more time, Clara Ashford, and you will learn what pain _really_ is," Riddle snarled, progressing upon her with his wand raised. His entire face was bloody and his nose was at an odd angle.

He towered above her now, his lip curling as he glared at her. All of a sudden, his foot shot out and kicked her injured leg. The pain was so intense she nearly fainted.

"It is broken," he said, satisfied. "I would not try to move if I were you."

Danielle wasn't planning to. She'd lost, everything was destroyed and it was over. Death would be a mercy now. "Just kill me quickly," she begged of him. "Please."

"Oh, I will not be killing you just yet," he told her. "I am not quite finished with you."

"Tom," she choked. "Please."

Riddle hesitated for a split second, and Danielle saw his face contort. "You don't want to hurt me," she continued quickly, grasping onto the last bit of hope she had. "Deep down—very deep down—you're not evil. It's because no one has ever cared about you enough to make you trust other people. Believe me."

She knew what she was saying was all lies, but something seemed to have struck a chord with Riddle. He froze, and then he started coughing. Danielle watched in horror as he continued rasping, bent double, and spat blood onto the floor.

_...Aside from the victim's unstable mental nature, the curse has a physical effect. This typically comes into play after a particularly violent episode. Excessive bouts of vomiting, bleeding and coughing usually occur. As the curse gets stronger and stronger, the physical strength of the victim weakens until their eventual premature death._

Was he dying, even now? The curse was killing him as surely as her leg was broken. If she were to leave, right now, would he continue vomiting blood until he died?

" _Shit,_ " Danielle said, her heart pounding. She attempted to stand on one leg, but her poor balance did not allow for hopping. Sprawling back onto the floor, she grabbed her wand.

Riddle's hacking coughs had turned into a sort of wheezing. His hands were clutching his sides and his eyes were shut. Danielle could only sit there watching, completely helpless.

A low rumble from somewhere above them caught her attention. She looked up and just as quickly ducked as several stones fell from the ceiling. The floor shook with the strength of some great force.

_The basilisk was coming._

"Tom, you brought me down here, you have to stop it from coming," Danielle pleaded, throwing all caution to the winds and ignoring the searing agony in her leg. "You said you weren't finished with me. Do you want the basilisk to ruin that for you?"

Riddle opened his eyes and slowly straightened up. With a rush of relief, Danielle saw his eyes were back to their normal color.

He seemed confused and disoriented. "Why are you here?" he asked, staring at Danielle as if he had never seen her before.

"Oh, I just felt like taking a walk and accidentally fell down here," she snapped. The pain in her leg was building to an almost unbearable threshold.

There was another roar above them. Riddle's head shot up. "Do not move," he ordered, realization dawning on his face. He raised his wand and Danielle felt some unseen electricity fill the Chamber. It crackled in her ears and made her hair stand on end. Nothing had happened yet, but it was obvious the force of the magic he was using was extremely powerful.

Danielle heard a loud hissing noise from behind her. Riddle whirled around and yelled something, but whatever it was, it wasn't English. He was hissing as well, almost as if he _was_ the snake itself.

A hot gust of air blew on Danielle's neck. Confused, she turned her head to see—but all of a sudden Riddle was there, blocking her view. "Close your eyes," he ordered. "Now!"

Danielle obediently did as she was told and squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Riddle pressing against her, so close she could feel his heartbeat against her side. He was urgently hissing again.

Something enormous was sliding on the floor in front of them. Danielle waited for the basilisk to sink its fangs into her, but nothing happened. Slowly, the sound of its passing got quieter and quieter until it disappeared altogether.

Next to her, Riddle had gone limp. Terrified, Danielle cracked open one eye. The Chamber was now empty except for her and Riddle. She could still feel the powerful spell he had cast pulsing around the room. The basilisk was nowhere in sight.

"Where did it go?" she whispered, knowing she would scream if she spoke any louder. But Riddle didn't answer. He had slumped on the ground beside her, his face stark white below the dirt and blood caking it.

"Tom?" Danielle asked shrilly. She tentatively grabbed his wrist to feel his pulse. It was unsteady and weak, his breathing very shallow. He had gone unconscious.

Swearing loudly, she tried to remember how to resuscitate someone. There was a spell, but she had forgotten—she could barely remember anything—

Only one memory was coming to the surface now. When Danielle was five, her family had gone to the seashore. Unnoticed by his parents, Andy had waded out into the water and had subsequently nearly drowned. Mrs Bailey had revived him in the Muggle way—how had she done it?

Praying she was doing it correctly, Danielle reached over and pinched the bridge of Riddle's nose so no air could escape. Using her other hand, she pulled her hair out of the way before taking a deep breath and pressing her lips against his.

She blew down quickly into his mouth and pulled away, her heart pounding crazily. There had been a peculiar shock when their lips had touched.

He didn't respond, so she tried it again, this time for longer. After several tries, he finally gasped and started to breathe on his own.

Danielle drew back from him slightly. Her lips were wet with dirt and his blood. She couldn't concentrate on anything aside from the fact that she had just basically kissed him five times.

"Where's the basilisk?" Danielle demanded as soon as he opened his eyes. "What did you do to it?"

Riddle's eyes flickered back and forth between her own. "I sent her away," he said. "I had to promise her that she would be fed soon."

" _Her_?" Danielle asked in disbelief. "It's a basilisk! Gender doesn't matter!"

He was suddenly overtaken by another long coughing fit, this time spitting blood onto the floor. Danielle felt bile rise up in her throat.

"What happened?" Riddle managed to ask when he had finally stopped coughing.

At first, Danielle hesitated, but figured it was best to tell him the truth. When she was finished, his face was unreadable.

"So…I presume you're going to try and kill me now?" she asked, trying hard to keep her tone light. "Even though I just saved your life and all?"

For what seemed like an eternity, Riddle stared at her. "Why did you do it?" he finally said.

Danielle frowned. "I…" she trailed off.

Riddle appraised her for another second before curtly turning away. "No, I will not kill you," he answered. "You are of…too much use to me."

Danielle figured this was as close to a compliment as she was going to get from him, and so didn't press the topic. While he was "normal" he wouldn't try to kill her. But what about when he wasn't?

"You need to go to the hospital wing," he said from behind her. She turned around to see he was standing over her broken leg. "I cannot fix it myself."

"Where are you going to go, then?" Danielle asked.

"I have ideas," Riddle replied, with a tone that suggested the end of the matter. He flicked his wand carelessly and a stretcher appeared in front of Danielle. "Get on it, quickly. We do not have much time before they find us."

Danielle began to hoist herself onto the stretcher using her arms, but she was still shaking from shock and fear and her weak muscles wouldn't support her weight. She went crashing back down to the ground, right on her broken leg.

Anguish such as she had never experienced immediately sliced through her. It was sheer agony, brutal torture. There was nothing but pain and there would never be anything but pain—

Stars danced in front of her eyes before everything went black.

* * *

"She's coming round, Albus." The low voice of Madam Cutteridge interrupted Danielle's peaceful oblivion.

A soft, white light pulsed against her eyelids. Utterly content and relaxed, she slowly opened her eyes.

The sun was shining directly into the hospital wing. Shafts of light poured into hundreds of puddles on the floor. It had to be afternoon.

Madam Cutteridge and Dumbledore were hovering over her, both with worried expressions on their faces. Their expressions relaxed when they saw her awaken.

"How are you feeling, Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked. "Julia mended your leg in a heartbeat."

"I feel fine," Danielle said, sitting up and testing out her previously broken leg. She _did_ feel fine, in fact. A serene happiness filled her heart to the brim.

"I gave you a Calming Draught," Madam Cutteridge explained. "That's why you feel so relaxed. It should wear off soon enough, though."

"How did you find me?" Danielle asked. The last thing she remembered was passing out in the Chamber of Secrets.

"You were lying on the floor of the girls' bathroom," explained Dumbledore, worry stealing over his features again. "Miss Pratt said she had left you there."

"She did," Danielle mumbled, not sure what was safe to say. "The bathroom was flooding—when I tried to get out of there, I tripped and fell."

"Your wand was lying several feet away," Dumbledore continued. He nodded his head toward the bedside table, where Danielle's wand faintly pulsed with a golden light. "It is lucky you didn't lose it."

"It is," Danielle agreed. She threw back the sheets and stood up. "What's going on anyway, Professor?"

"All the students have been instructed to stay in their common rooms," Dumbledore said. "Mr Riddle is missing."

So no one knew about the Chamber or the basilisk just yet. The professors all believed that a crazed Riddle was on the loose somewhere in the school. A shiver ran down Danielle's spine. He must have somehow transported her back up to the bathroom…but where was he now?

"Julia, if you wouldn't mind leaving us alone for a few moments?" Dumbledore asked Madam Cutteridge politely. The matron made an angry 'hmmph' before bustling off to her office.

"Sir, I—" Danielle began, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her.

"How much do you know about Mr Riddle's…for want of a better word… _predicament_?"

Danielle cringed. "Basically all of it," she admitted. "I went the library and read about Slytherin's curse."

"Yes, Madam Pince was most confused when _A Concise List of Dark Curses_ recently turned up on her desk without having been checked out first." Dumbledore's lips twitched.

"The thing is, Professor, I don't know what to do now," Danielle confessed, staring down at her hands. "I've ruined _everything_." Her voice broke on the last word.

She expected Dumbledore to reproach her, but the Transfiguration professor didn't respond. When Danielle finally mustered the courage to look up, he was actually smiling. "Perhaps things are not as lost as you believe they are, Miss Ashford," he said. "Have you ever heard of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem?"

Danielle nodded. "It's been lost for centuries."

"Supposedly, it had very powerful magical properties," Dumbledore said. "It was supposed to increase the intelligence of the wearer—as well as heal even the most grievous wounds and curses. It is rumored that it once healed Acromantula venom, which has no known cure."

_No known cure…_

"Sir, are you sure you have no idea where the diadem is now?" Danielle asked desperately.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am afraid I do not, Miss Ashford. But of course, that doesn't mean no one else knows where it is."

Danielle knew what he was trying to say. She reached for her wand and stood up. "You don't need to worry about me, Professor. I'll—"

Her speech was interrupted by the hospital wing doors bursting open. Professor Slughorn rushed in, breathing heavily. "Albus—you must come quickly," he panted. "The second floor—"

Dumbledore rose at once. "What is it, Horace?"

"Someone's dead, Albus. A girl—" Slughorn wheezed. Danielle's stomach plummeted.

"Who?" Dumbledore asked urgently. He strode toward the doors of the hospital wing. Danielle ran after him.

"A poor little third-year Ravenclaw," Slughorn said as they hurried down the flight of stairs. "Myrtle Pratt."

Danielle had known who it was the second the Potions professor had opened his mouth, but she still couldn't stop herself from gasping.

"Miss Ashford!" Slughorn exclaimed, evidently surprised to see her tagging along. "Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

"She's safe with us, Horace," Dumbledore said firmly.

There was already a crowd of professors gathered around the entrance to the bathroom when they arrived. Danielle noticed the words first—painted on the wall in bright red letters shone the sentence _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware._

"Stay back!" Dippet was calling from the front of the crowd. "Oh, Albus—there you are!"

As Dumbledore moved to stand by Dippet, Danielle stood on her tiptoes to see what they were kneeling over. She caught a glimpse of a limp, pale hand and nearly vomited.

"Miss Ashford!" the voice of Professor Merrythought, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, came from beside her. "You must go back to your common room at once!"

"But Dumbledore said I could—"

"He is too busy to look after you just now. Go back to your common room!"

Unable to argue, Danielle helplessly turned around and went back the way she had come. What was she to do now? Riddle was completely out of control, Myrtle was dead and the rest of the school would undoubtedly think she was the Heir. She had nowhere to go.

As she was walking down the Grand Staircase, she caught sight of a second shadow walking just behind her. Whirling around, wand raised, she saw Riddle standing before her. "I was beginning to think you would never realize my presence, Clara," he said quietly.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Danielle demanded. "The teachers are all looking for you. How could you have kille—"

Riddle's face whitened. "Rest assured I had no control over it," he told her. "There will be no more deaths, anyway. I am leaving."

"Leaving?" Danielle asked in disbelief. "Now you're going to be set loose on the rest of the world? That's even worse!"

"Clara, I know what I am doing," he said. "I came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? Isn't that just touching," Danielle sneered. "First you kill a student and then write a message on the wall, now you want to say _goodbye_ to me?"

"I did not kill Miss Pratt," Riddle explained. "The basilisk did. I told you she was hungry. I tried to stop her, but I could not."

"What was Myrtle doing in the bathroom anyway?"

"She was crying. I believe Miss Hornby was bullying her." Riddle's eyes burned. "Clara, you must understand—"

"Don't," Danielle spat. "Just don't. Go. When I read about all the murders in the paper, I'll think of you and all the fond memories we shared. Oh wait—there _were_ none."

"You are an insolent little girl," Riddle snapped, but there was no real malice in his voice. The conflict instead seemed to be in his eyes, where they were changing emotions so quickly Danielle could barely comprehend it.

He reached out, placing his hands lightly on her waist as he drew her towards him. Before Danielle could speak, he bent his head and briefly pressed his lips against hers.

It lasted barely a second before Riddle pulled away, still looking into her eyes. Then he turned and was gone.

Danielle stared after him until her brain caught up with her, and she pinched her arm hard. The pain brought tears to her eyes, and she felt a wry smile curve at her lips that was completely inappropriate to the current situation.

_Well, at least that wasn't a hallucination._

* * *

Back in the Slytherin common room, Danielle tried her hardest to make herself invisible. She ducked through a group of seventh-years and pushed her way past an embracing couple to get to Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard.

"Clara!" Alyssa said loudly, jumping up from her seat.

"Shush," Danielle said, putting a finger to her lips. "I don't want anyone to notice me."

"We heard you were in the hospital wing," Dylan said. "Are you all right?"

"Obviously, or I wouldn't be here," Danielle answered. "Guys, Myrtle's dead and someone wrote a message on the wall near the second-floor girls' bathroom."

The three of them looked at her in shock. Obviously the news hadn't reached the students yet. Danielle gave a quick explanation of what had gone on. Their eyes were all wide by the end.

"Where's Riddle, then?" Alphard asked. "He's the one that did it, right?"

Danielle could have hugged him at that moment. The fact that she was a prime suspect hadn't even crossed his mind. "Yes, he did," she said. "But I don't know where he is now."

"I do," Dylan said. "Or at least I know where's he's hiding."

"What?" Danielle was shocked.

"You know the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor? Well, the wall opposite that opens to a secret room. I saw Riddle go into it once in fourth year. I tried to get in, but it never opened for me. That's probably where he is."

"Dylan, you're a genius!" Alyssa said.

 _If he's still there,_ Danielle thought. "Thanks, Dylan. I'll be back, okay?" She sprinted up the stairs towards the girls' dormitory, where she immediately grabbed her suitcase and began stuffing things haphazardly into it. The Invisibility Cloak and the Vita Servo were safely tucked away.

On her way down to the common room, Danielle had made her decision. In fact, she almost wasn't sure if she had ever had a choice at all. She was in it far too deep. There was nothing left for her at Hogwarts, anyway. Not without Tom Riddle.

When Danielle straightened up, she saw that a brown package lay on her pillow. Frowning, she picked it up. There was a note attached to the back:

_Miss Ashford,_

_Inside I have enclosed something that I am sure you will need at some point in the future. The package cannot be opened until the time is right. Once it opens, however, you must use the object inside, no matter how much you detest doing it. I trust that you will follow these words carefully, because when the package is opened, it means that things will have returned to their normal state._

_With these cryptic words, I leave you. Trust that we will meet again sometime._

_Albus Dumbledore_

How had he known she was leaving? Danielle inspected the package carefully. It was wrapped in a way that made it impossible to guess at the object inside. She tried tugging at the paper, but it refused to open.

Stuffing it into her overflowing suitcase, she pulled on her traveling cloak and left the dormitory.

Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard all looked surprised at her reappearance. "Where are you going?" Alyssa asked. "We're not leaving until tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you hear? Professor Slughorn came in and told us that because of Riddle, and now the fact that Myrtle is dead, the school will be closed. It's too dangerous here."

Danielle was stunned. "So…everyone is leaving?"

"Tomorrow, yes," said Dylan glumly. "They're not sure when it will reopen, either."

"Well, I'm leaving now," said Danielle firmly.

"Why?" the twins asked, but there was a glint of understanding in Alphard's eyes.

"You're going to find Riddle," he stated.

Danielle nodded.

"We're coming with you," Alyssa said resolutely.

"What are you—no, you can't!" Danielle exclaimed. "It's too dangerous."

"It's even more dangerous if you go alone," Dylan said reasonably. "If there are three of us against one of Riddle…"

"Four of us," Alphard corrected. "I'm coming too."

"Oh, Alphard!" Alyssa exclaimed. "What about your family?"

"What family?" Alphard laughed humorlessly. "Do the Blacks look like a good family to you? I've been waiting my whole life to run away from home."

"I don't know where we're going," Danielle said, anxious to explain. "All I know is that Tom is going to look for Ravenclaw's lost diadem."

"Why?" Dylan asked. "That diadem's been lost for ages. The chances are zero that we'll find it."

"I'll explain why later," Danielle said. "Just be prepared for him to be angry when he sees you. Very, very angry."

"Like Dylan said, there's four of us against one of him," Alyssa said. "Besides, he can't exactly be mad if we're _helping_ him, right?"

"He's unstable," said Danielle. "He could—"

"Oh, Clara, stop it," said Alphard. "We're coming with you and that's final."

Worry clouded Danielle's brain as the three of them headed up to their dormitories to pack. They thought they were being noble and going on an adventure. But they were all probably going to certain death.

She sighed, feeling weary. Going over the memory of Tom's kiss in her head, she felt her heart swell. She wanted to be with him, no matter what the cost.

But would she be able to _pay_ the cost?


	28. Escape from Hogwarts

Ten minutes later, the four of them were standing in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor. They had managed to get down to the kitchens to grab some food and come back upstairs unnoticed, but there was a good chance that someone would come around the corner any minute.

"It was right here," Dylan was saying, patting the brick wall. "A door just kind of…opened and Riddle walked in."

"Well, if he doesn't want anyone to follow him, then we're stuck," Danielle muttered. She paced up and down in front of the wall, thinking hard. "Did he use some sort of spell?"

Dylan shook his head.

 _I need to find Tom Riddle. I need to know where he's going,_ Danielle thought, frustrated. There had to be a way—

"Look!" Alyssa suddenly cried. Sure enough, the brick was fading away to reveal an ornately carved door.

Everyone stared at Danielle. "I didn't do anything," she stammered. "I just thought about what I needed and it opened…"

"That's wicked!" said Alphard. "I wonder who else knows about this."

"You go first, Clara," Dylan told her. "If Riddle's in there you're the one he's least likely to curse."

"What an honor," Danielle replied sarcastically, but she walked over to the door and pushed it open as the other three backed away.

She'd been expecting a dungeon-like and gloomy chamber, but was instead surprised to see a smaller, cozier room. A bed stood in one corner, with bookshelves covering every available inch of wall space.

"He's not here," Dylan said from behind her. "You can lower your wands, guys."

Danielle stepped further into the room. It was actually rather charming, with a fireplace blazing in a grate she hadn't previously noticed. A table sat in front of the fire, covered with what appeared to be maps.

"Albania?" Alphard asked, coming up behind her. "Why would he be looking at pictures of Albania?"

"No idea," Danielle murmured. She examined the papers more closely. There was a twenty-page essay detailing the complete history of Albania, with matching maps and diagrams. Tom appeared to have drawn arrows and circles around several parts of the map.

"He must have been looking for something," Alphard said.

"The diadem," Danielle said with a jolt of realization. That had to be it. Tom had somehow found out that Ravenclaw's diadem was in Albania and he was going to find it. If what Dumbledore had told her was true, it would be able to heal his curse.

"Care to explain?" Alyssa asked. "Why is he looking for the diadem?"

Danielle sighed. "See, if I told you, he would probably kill me."

"Come off it, Clara. We all know something's not right with Riddle," Dylan said. "It won't matter what you tell us."

She was torn. The others wouldn't trust her if she didn't tell them, and Tom would be furious if she did. Who should she be loyal to now?

"You see," Danielle began after a long pause, "Tom is...ill. Ravenclaw's diadem is rumored to have extraordinary healing powers and I think he thinks that if he can find it, he'll be all right again." It wasn't the entire truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either.

Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy the others. "How did he find out it was in Albania, though?" Alphard asked.

Danielle shrugged. "Maybe he read it in one of these books here. It doesn't matter, anyway. We just need to find him, and fast."

"He has to have left on foot," Dylan said. "Professor Dippet blocked the Floo Network and there's no other way out of Hogwarts."

"Let's go, then," Danielle said. She grabbed the nearest map of Albania and concealed it inside her cloak. "We don't have much time."

But as the four of them rounded the corner outside, Danielle caught sight of a ghost drifting down the hallway directly in their path. "Get back!" she hissed, but the ghost had already spotted them.

It was the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw house ghost. "What are you doing outside of your dormitories?" the beautiful woman asked, frowning disapprovingly at them. "It's not safe here."

"Yes, yes, we know that,' Danielle said impatiently. "Do you mind not telling anyone you saw us?"

"I would not unless explicitly asked," the Grey Lady said, looking at Danielle with dislike.

"Wait a second, madam!" Alphard said, stepping in front of her. "You're Helena Ravenclaw, right?"

"Yes, I am," the woman said arrogantly, raising her chin. "Why do you want to know?"

"How much do you know about your mother's diadem?" Alphard asked.

The ghost looked haughty. "I do not give that sort of information out to just anybody."

"We're not just anybody, though," Alphard said beseechingly. "We need to know about that diadem. It's important."

"Funny, you're the second person to say that to me today," Helena said. "Well, I am afraid that is private information."

"Wait," Danielle said. "Did the other person happen to be a Slytherin boy with dark hair and blue eyes, by any chance?"

Helena looked surprised. "In fact, it was. How did you—"

"The reason we're asking you is because of him," Danielle said. "That's why you _need_ to tell us everything you know about the diadem. Please."

The ghost coldly appraised her for a few seconds. Finally she grudgingly said, "All right. I can tell you are serious about it. But you must not repeat this to anyone. Do you understand?"

They all nodded.

"When I was eighteen, a handsome, extremely wealthy man fell in love with me. I spurned his advances at first, but loved him back in secret. Our families would be horrified if they ever found out. They had a long history of conflict, you see.

"After a year of courting, we illicitly married and escaped to the other end of the country. Things were fine at first, but one day my husband came home from a long trip very ill. I asked him what had happened, and he confessed that he had gone back to tell his family about me. As a punishment, his father had placed a fatal curse on him that would continue torturing him until his death."

"That's terrible!" Alyssa yelled. "How could someone do that to their child?"

"Shut up," Danielle hissed. "Let her finish the story."

"Not long after, I discovered I was pregnant. My husband was distraught. He told me that the baby would be cursed, just like him. He suggested killing it before it could suffer. Refusing to put my child in danger, I ran back home. My mother took me in but was extremely ashamed of me. When I could stand her disappointment no longer, I ran away with her diadem to a place she would never find me. I had long coveted her beautiful diadem, and here I had a perfect opportunity to take what I wanted and hurt her at the same time." Helena paused. "I stayed there for several years. When my son was three years old, my husband came looking for us. My mother was very ill, he said, and wanted to see me one last time. I refused. He was almost dead himself. Whatever curse his father had placed on him had sucked the life out of him, leaving him a shell of what he once was.

"Because he was also mentally unstable, my refusal upset him beyond measure. In a rage, he killed me. Once he saw what he had done, he was deeply saddened and killed himself as well." She sounded bitter.

"At least he felt remorse," said Dylan. "He could have just walked away."

"He would have died within a week anyway," Helena answered cynically. "It didn't matter."

"What happened to your son?" Danielle asked.

"Having witnessed the entire thing, he ran away to the nearest village, where a kindly wizard adopted him. When he was seventeen, he traveled back to Britain and died only two years after." There was great sadness in Helena's eyes. "I regret never explaining why to him."

"This husband of yours," Alphard inquired, "He was Slytherin's son, wasn't he?"

"Yes, the Bloody Baron," Helena said mournfully. "I've been forced to face him every day for the past thousand years, and I haven't once offered him my forgiveness."

"Isn't that a bit harsh?" Alyssa asked.

The ghost looked irritated. "You would not understand unless you were in my position. Now, I really must be going. We have a school to protect."

"Wait!" said Danielle, stepping forward. "What happened to the diadem?"

"I hid it in a hollow tree deep in a forest," answered Helena. "It is surely long lost by now."

"In Albania?"

The ghost looked icily at them. "I have told you enough already," she said abruptly. "The diadem is gone." With that, she turned around and glided through the nearest wall.

"Cheerful, isn't she?" Dylan asked.

While Alphard and Alyssa laughed, Danielle was trying to fit the remaining pieces together in her head. Tom was going to find his ancestor's diadem; there was no doubt about that. With the information he now had from Helena Ravenclaw, he would use it to rid himself of Vetus Periculosus and then do…what? If he no longer possessed an "evil twin", so to speak, would he become a better person? Or would he still become Lord Voldemort?

Danielle froze as she heard brisk footsteps coming down the corridor towards them. "Someone's coming!" she whispered. "Quick—" Unclasping her suitcase, she rooted around until she found the Invisibility Cloak. "Get under it!"

"What is—"

"Now!" Danielle pulled the Cloak over all of them just as Dippet rounded the corner, closely followed by Professor Merrythought. "Well, Galatea, we've searched the entire school and there's neither hide nor hair of Tom or Clara," Dippet was saying. "Perhaps he abducted her?"

"That very well might be the case," Professor Merrythought replied, shaking her head. "In all the years I've taught Mr Riddle, he's never shown any inclination whatsoever to the Dark Arts…"

"Yes, that fact puzzles us all," Dippet replied with a sigh.

Danielle was confused. Shouldn't he have told Merrythought about Tom's curse? She _was_ the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all.

"Should we summon the Hogwarts Express to pick the students up tonight?" Merrythought asked.

"I'm afraid that might have to be the case," Dippet replied. "What with Miss Pratt dead, and two students unaccounted for…"

Beside Danielle, Dylan clapped a hand over his nose. She winced as he sneezed loudly.

Both professors turned around to face their hiding spot. "There's someone there," Merrythought said at once, raising her wand. " _Homenum—"_

Before she could finish the spell, Danielle lifted her own wand and whispered, " _Confundo_!"

There was a flash of red light and Merrythought stepped back, a puzzled expression on her face. "Oh, hello, Armando," she said to Dippet. "What are we doing here?"

Dippet looked positively horrified. Danielle prodded her wand into Dylan's side, mouthing " _Go_!"

Crouched under the Invisibility Cloak, the four of them began moving slowly down the hall. The Cloak barely covered them all and their luggage. Danielle caught sight of Alphard's shoe poking out from under the hem and signaled to him that he should move it.

Luckily, Dippet and Merrythought didn't pursue them. Once they had safely gotten down to the Entrance Hall with no one in sight, Danielle breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close," she said, pulling off the Cloak. "It's a good thing everyone is—"

She trailed off as she saw Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard staring incredulously at her. "Clara, you own an _Invisibility Cloak,_ and you just Confounded Professor Merrythought," Dylan said in a strangled voice. "What other tricks do you know?"

"Dumbledore gave me the Cloak," Danielle replied. "And I don't know any _tricks_. It was just because Professor Merrythought wasn't expecting anyone to jinx her, so she was caught off guard, that's all."

There was a silence in which her three friends exchanged doubting looks. Danielle couldn't stand waiting any longer; Tom could be miles away for all she knew. "Well, if you're just going to stand there, you might as well go back to the common room," she said, walking towards the doors. "This isn't some adventure, guys. This is real, and this is dangerous."

"We _know_ , Clara," said Alyssa patiently. "We're coming with you no matter what. Besides, Hogwarts is closing anyway. Where is there for us to go? Alphard only has his horrid family, and Dylan and I will be shut up in a drafty old manor with our parents. I'd much rather go to Albania."

"Think about it—if we find Ravenclaw's diadem, we could be famous," Dylan breathed. "We'd be written about in the history books forever!"

Danielle wanted to scream. Instead, she fought to keep her voice calm. "You're missing the point. I'm not going to find the diadem; I'm going to find Tom. He is extremely dangerous right now. He's unbalanced, ill. At any moment, he could snap."

This definitely sobered them up. "But—but we've known him for almost five years," said Alyssa. "He never showed any signs—"

"It's getting worse," said Danielle. "It's because of me, I think." _Because I trigger strong emotions in him, like anger and hatred. Would his curse be less noticeable if not for me?_

"If it's because of you, then why are you going to find him?" Alphard asked quietly. "Wouldn't it make him worse?"

This made her pause. "I…" Danielle trailed off, not sure what to say.

"You love him," Dylan said flatly.

"NO!" she exclaimed, too loudly. "I don't…I just want to stop him."

There was another silence. Faintly, Danielle heard voices in the distance. It was now or never.

"I'm coming," Alyssa said firmly, taking a step towards Danielle. "Maybe it's not what a true Slytherin would do, but I don't care."

"I'm coming as well," Alphard said. "I'm leaving nothing behind; my family would rather I die or disappear without a trace."

Dylan took the longest to respond. "Fine," he said after a long while. "I can't let Lyssa go alone, after all."

Danielle wasn't sure to feel relieved or disappointed. "Then let's go," she said, striding towards the front doors. She just hoped the others would follow her.

* * *

As luck would have it, a blinding snow had picked up outside. Danielle led the group, her hood pulled tightly over her face. She was beginning to question her foolish decision to follow Tom. She had no idea where he was, how to get to him, or even if he would take kindly to seeing her. Would they be forced to walk to Albania on foot?

"Thestrals!" Alphard shouted from behind her, as if he had heard her thoughts. "We could ride the Thestrals!"

"Are you mad?" Alyssa yelled back. "There's no way I'm getting on one of those things! Haven't you ever listened in Care of Magical Creatures?"

"They're not _that_ dangerous," Danielle mused. "And—" she gasped as a sudden thought struck her. "They could lead us to Tom! I have the map with his scent on it!"

"That's a brilliant idea, but d'you have any idea on how exactly to _find_ them?" Dylan asked sarcastically. "Last I checked, they weren't very easy to spot."

Danielle stopped and gestured for Alphard to take out their satchel of food. He pulled out a large piece of steak and grinned.

"Why are we wasting our food supply?" Alyssa asked, distressed. "You're not seriously thinking about riding those… _things_ , are you?"

"Looks like it's the only plan we've got," Dylan told her. "Unless you have any other ideas."

She scowled.

Danielle took the steak from Alphard and held it up in front of her. "Er, Thestrals?" she asked, feeling stupid. "We've got food for you…"

She waited with bated breath for a minute. Then, amidst the snow that was swirling up around her feet, she saw hoof prints coming towards them, apparently materializing by themselves.

"Here they come," she said nervously. "I'm assuming no one can see them?"

Judging by Dylan and Alphard's blank looks, and Alyssa staring in the wrong direction entirely, the answer was a no.

The hoof prints continued until they were right in front of her, then something snatched the steak out of her hands. Danielle watched in trepidation as the food vanished in mid-air.

There was a loud snort, and a warm puff of air blew on her face. Hesitantly, Danielle reached out her arm until she could feel a smooth, glossy skin beneath her fingers. "How many of you are there?" she asked the invisible creature.

A loud, shrill cry pierced her eardrums and made her jump back, landing on her behind in the snow. Alphard and Dylan laughed. "It's calling the others," Alphard explained.

Sure enough, several more sets of hoof prints were heading towards them. Something prodded Danielle's side, and she gasped until she realized the Thestral was trying to help her up. "Thanks," she told it, patting its nose. Her fingers seemingly curled around nothing.

"I'm not getting on one of these things, Clara," Alyssa said shakily as one of the creatures passed close to her. "What makes you think they'll listen to us?"

"According to Professor Kettleburn, they're highly trained and very intelligent," Alphard said. He strode over to a set of hoof prints and jumped easily up into thin air, settling on what Danielle assumed was the Thestral's back. It looked extremely odd.

With some apprehension, Dylan swung himself up on the creature nearest him as well. "This is bloody peculiar," he said fervently, staring down at himself.

Danielle's Thestral nudged her shoulder. She reached into her bag and brought out the map of Albania Tom had been perusing. "Can you bring us to him?" she asked the invisible animal.

The beast snorted and cried sharply again. Hoping that meant yes, Danielle walked around to its side. She placed her hands on its back and lifted herself up, marveling at how strange it was. There appeared to be nothing between her and the ground.

Knotting her hands tightly in the Thestral's mane, Danielle looked down at Alyssa, who still had her feet planted firmly on the ground. "I'll only get on if I can double up with one of you," she said nervously.

Danielle was about to agree when an angry grunt came from behind Alyssa. She squealed and tried to flee, but only ended up running headfirst into the Thestral.

"Hurry up, Lyssa," Dylan said as he floated towards her. "We don't have all day before someone realizes we're here."

Finally conceding defeat, Alyssa reluctantly climbed onto the animal and grabbed onto what Danielle assumed was its mane in a death grip, shutting her eyes tightly. "Tell me when we're there," she moaned.

As if her words were a catalyst, Danielle's Thestral began to move forwards. She barely had time to secure her position before it took off at a dead gallop.

There was a horrifying second where she thought she was about to fall—then there was a loud flapping sound on either side of her and the animal took off into the sky.

Danielle's stomach dropped with a sickening thud as the Thestral flew higher and higher. She had to close her eyes to protect them from the snow flying into her face. Alyssa was screaming and Dylan was swearing loudly. From what Danielle could hear, Alphard seemed to be the only one enjoying himself—his excited whoops were the loudest of all.

They hadn't been flying for long when Danielle felt her Thestral pitch sharply forward and she slid several inches down its back. She managed to open her eyes and see a snow-covered forest looming in front of them before they landed with a sharp jolt on the ground in a small clearing.

The other Thestrals landed beside her not long after. Dylan got down at once, seeming off-balance. Alphard actually leaned over and hugged his before unwillingly leaping off. Alyssa was still frozen on the creature's back. With an impatient shake, the Thestral tossed her off and she landed safely in a large snowbank.

Danielle patted the great beast's neck and jumped down. "Thank you," she told it. "Now go back to Hogwarts and make sure Professor Kettleburn gives you lots of meat."

With an affectionate bump and a rush of beating wings, her Thestral took off. It appeared to be the leader, as all the other ones followed suit.

"Never—bloody—again," Alyssa said fervently, appearing from behind the snowbank. "Are they gone?"

"Yeah," said Alphard. He was squinting up into the sky where they had most likely disappeared. "Merlin, I wish I could see them."

While Alyssa complained about how it had been the worst experience of her life, Danielle had pulled her wand out and was scanning the immediate area. Had the Thestrals brought them to where Tom was? If so, where was he?

He would magically erase his footprints, of course. That meant it would be near impossible to tell the direction in which he had gone…unless…

" _Point me_ ," Danielle whispered. Her wand swiveled around to face the way they had come-northwards. He would be traveling south…so that meant they were to go in the opposite direction.

Leaving her three friends still in the clearing, Danielle began to make her way through the knee-deep snow. She could barely see ten feet in front of her. Was this a foolish mission, destined to fail before it even started?

Just as Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard were out of earshot, her wand flew out of her hand. Danielle stopped, heart in her throat. It had gone to a spot somewhere between two fallen trees—

A figure had appeared out of the snow, clad in a long dark coat. Danielle knew who he was even before she saw his face. "Tom," she breathed.

He stopped several feet in front of her, his expression wary but his eyes blazing. "What are you doing here?" he asked. His tone was not friendly.

"I came to look for you," Danielle answered. "You didn't honestly think I would let you just leave like that?"

"I hoped you would," Tom replied. He took another step towards her. "But I can see I was sadly mistaken. You do not learn from your previous faults, do you, Clara?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Danielle asked.

"It means I want you to go back to Hogwarts," he instructed, each word making a distinct puff in the air.

"I'm not leaving," Danielle insisted, but knowing she had lost. "Besides, Hogwarts is closing anyway. I have nowhere to go."

Tom turned away from her. "That is not my problem." His voice was colder than Danielle had ever heard it.

"You're going to find Ravenclaw's diadem," she said desperately. "We talked to Helena Ravenclaw before we left, and—"

He whirled back around. "How did you know?"

"D—Dylan said that last year he had noticed you going into a room on the seventh floor, and it opened for us and we found your maps of Albania—"

A fury was noticeably building inside of him. "You had the audacity to—"

"Tom," Danielle said brokenly. "At least let me come with you. Please."

His eyes flashed red. Remembering how it had worked down inside the Chamber, Danielle said quickly, "You'll never make it out of Scotland if you aren't careful, Tom. Like I said before, without someone else here you'll be…unbalanced. I have things that can help us find the diadem."

He visibly shuddered, struggling to stay in control of himself. "Why did you follow me?" he asked.

"Because I…care about you," Danielle whispered. There. It was out. She had said it.

There was a yell from somewhere behind her and Alyssa's voice called out, "Clara!"

Tom's demeanor changed almost immediately. He had managed to control himself, but at Alyssa's voice he had jerked. "You brought them along too?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"They insisted on coming," Danielle protested.

A strong gust of wind blew past her and she had to turn away. When it was over, Tom was gone. Danielle's wand was lying, abandoned, in the snow.

"Clara, where did you—oh, good," Alyssa said, relieved. She, Dylan and Alphard appeared from behind a clump of trees.

"He's gone," Danielle choked, not even able to move her limbs in order to pick up her wand. "Tom! TOM!"

But he didn't answer. He was right: she had made a terrible mistake.


	29. Dissonance

By the time night fell, the four of them had only managed to walk five miles. Danielle was exhausted and her energy was spent. Though Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard had been optimistic that they would find Tom at first, the hours dragged by with no sign of him. Danielle was beginning to wonder if they should just go back to the castle, no matter what fate awaited them there.

They finally stopped for the night in a small patch of trees just outside of a Muggle farm, the first sign of civilization all day. Under the secrecy of Tom's Undefinable Location Charm, Danielle managed to create a fire and the four of them huddled closely around it as they ate their dinner.

"How much food do you s'pose we have?" Dylan asked as he bit into a large chicken wing. "Enough to get us to the nearest town, at least?"

"I hope so," said Alphard, looking worried. "I stuffed as much into the bag as I could from the kitchens—the house-elves told me to take as much as I wanted."

"Where _is_ the nearest town?" Alyssa asked sulkily; her mood seemed to be growing steadily worse as the night wore on. "Didn't you bring a map of Britain along, Clara?"

Danielle felt her cheeks turn red; she hadn't had time to plan much before their impromptu escape. "No," she said. "But we can ask the people who live on the farm."

"That'll look really natural," Alphard replied. "Four teens show up at their door asking where the nearest town is. We can say we're runaways, but we don't look nearly enough ragged and undernourished for that yet."

The _yet_ sent a shiver down Danielle's spine. "We'll figure it out tomorrow," she said, trying to be confident. "Now all I want to do is go to sleep."

With their efforts combined, they managed to create a tent that could comfortably fit all of them. It was about twenty feet wide and twenty feet long, with a bunk bed on either side.

Alyssa, Alphard and Dylan all fell asleep right away, but even as fatigued as she was from the day's events, Danielle couldn't sleep. She lay awake for what felt like hours, listening to Alyssa snoring above her.

When it became too much to bear, she pulled on her cloak and stole quietly out of the tent, her half-finished copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in hand.

The wild storm from earlier had given way to a silent night. The only sound was Danielle's boots crunching on the snow. She felt as if she was in a different world entirely; one that only consisted of herself and the deserted woodland.

Her hopes that she would become sleepier by reading appeared to have failed her—she only found herself more awake as she whispered " _Lumos_!" and opened up the book.

Danielle had only read a chapter when she had the strange feeling someone was watching her. She glanced toward the tent, but there was no one in sight.

"Alyssa? Dylan? Alphard?" she asked, her voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. "Is anyone there?"

It would be impossible for anyone to find them though…Tom's invented spell was virtually foolproof…to everybody except for—

" _Tom_!" Danielle gasped as soon as she had figured it out.

"How carelessly you defy me, Clara," he said, appearing out of the darkness and striding towards her. "I thought I told you to go back to Hogwarts."

"And I thought I told you that I wasn't leaving," Danielle said firmly, shutting the book and standing up. "Why did you come back?"

"I have been following you all day," Tom said. There were purple circles under his eyes and his cheeks seemed hollower than usual. When was the last time he'd eaten or slept? "Surely you must not have thought that I would just leave you to blindly follow me. If I truly wished to avoid detection, then your search would be futile."

"But that's not my question," Danielle pressed. "I asked you _why_ you came back."

Tom paused. Little flakes of snow were burying themselves amongst his thick dark hair and melting just as quickly. He raked a hand through his hair, betraying his outer calm. "I could not leave you to starve and eventually die out here," he finally spat. "I would have done it with pleasure to your pathetic little excuses for _friends_ —but not—"

Danielle held her breath, but he didn't finish his sentence. His eyes were glowing a brilliant blue in the dim wandlight. "So…you're taking me back to Hogwarts?" she ventured to ask.

"No," said Tom. "Hogwarts was evacuated in the afternoon after a Gryffindor was killed, shortly after you left."

Danielle's blood ran ice-cold. "Someone _else_ …was killed?" she choked.

"The basilisk has the run of the school now, without anyone to control it," he replied tonelessly. "I daresay the professors will be forced to abandon the castle by tomorrow."

Exhaustion and shock were beginning to overcome Danielle. She sat down heavily on the nearest snow-covered log. "Where are you taking me?" she whispered.

"Back to the orphanage in London," Tom told her.

"No," Danielle gasped. "Please—let me come with you, Tom. Please."

"You cannot, Clara," he insisted. "This is something I have to do alone."

"How?" Danielle argued. "I can help you. You're _dangerous_ on your own, Tom."

He paused, but only for a moment. "No."

Angrily, Danielle stood up, but spots were dancing in front of her eyes. She suddenly felt so tired she could barely move. Had she just followed him into the Chamber that morning? It felt like it had been years.

Tom, sensing her imbalance, moved forward to steady her. "Go to sleep," he instructed. "You are exhausted."

"And you aren't?" Danielle challenged. She leaned heavily on him for support.

"I, at least, am still coherent," Tom retorted, with an almost smug tone in his voice—or Danielle could just have been imagining it.

Her vision went black for a second, but she struggled to keep her eyes open. "Don't leave me, Tom," she heard herself mumble as if from a great distance.

He didn't reply, but she felt him lift her up into his arms, and then she was asleep.

* * *

An incessant rustling noise woke her up the next morning. Sleepily, she opened her eyes—only to come face-to-face with an enormous black adder.

"Ahhh!" Danielle cried, immediately jumping to her feet.

She was surrounded by hay. It covered the floor and was stacked up along the walls of what appeared to be a barn loft of some sort. Tom must have brought her in here when she had fallen asleep…but why?

Danielle glared at the offending snake, which was coolly appraising her. "Why aren't you in hibernation?" she asked it, not expecting a reply.

It stuck its forked tongue out at her and hissed.

"Well, if you're going to be like that…" she said, plopping onto the nearest bale of hay. Tom was nowhere in sight. Had he just left her?

Danielle surveyed her surroundings. A ladder led down from the loft to the ground, and she could see horse stalls lined up below her. Gentle nickering and whinnying could be heard. This must be the Muggle farm they had been camping near. What if someone came in and saw her?

As if her thoughts had been the trigger, Danielle heard the barn door creak open. She jumped down from the hay and crouched behind it, praying no one would come up. The adder slithered over beside her. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the snake, but the reptile merely hissed again.

"Hiding, are we?" a coldly amused voice asked.

Danielle had never been so glad to see Tom Riddle in her life. "I thought you had left," she said, standing up and brushing straw off of her clothes. "You could have been the farmer for all I knew."

"The Muggles do not appear to be at home at the moment," Tom said, handing her what looked like a bag of food. "It would perhaps be wise not to stay for long, however."

Danielle looked at him carefully. Though his cheeks were still hollow, he appeared to be well-rested and alert. He had probably been sleeping here too last night…the very thought made her heart skip a beat.

"Where are my things?" she asked, opening the bag to find it full to the brim with fruits and vegetables.

"I took them from the tent last night," Tom replied, summoning her luggage from behind another pile of hay with a flick of his wand. "I assure you your friends had no idea whatsoever of my…intrusion."

"Where are they now?" Danielle asked, too worried to eat.

"I presume they are still there," he answered, kneeling down and offering his hand to the adder, which happily wound itself around his arm. "It is still fairly early."

"Well, I can't just leave them!" Danielle cried. "They'll be wondering where I am."

"No," said Tom. "I left them a note explaining that you had returned to London."

Her mouth fell open. "You forged a—"

"Hush, Clara," the Heir of Slytherin said, standing up with the snake still wrapped around his arm. "What would you rather I have done?"

"They'll think the worst of me now," Danielle moaned, putting her hands over her face and sinking to the ground. "I have to go find them."

Something took her hands and pried them away from her face. "You have one of two choices, Clara," Tom said, his voice soft as it always was when he was most dangerous. The adder, now on his shoulder, bobbed its head as if agreeing. "You may go back to your friends, but I will go on myself. Or you can follow me, but leave your friends."

It took Danielle several moments before she realized what he was saying. She had to choose between her friends and him. _Still the same manipulative ba—_

"Well, Clara?" Tom asked, keeping a firm grip on her hands and leaning closer. "What will be your decision?"

His eyes were emotionless—but there was a spark of something, deep down, that almost looked like desperation. Danielle couldn't stand to look at him for too long. "I can't choose," she said unhappily, turning her head.

But he grabbed her chin and made her face him. "I have been thinking that perhaps I should bring you along to Albania."

" _What_?" Danielle asked doubtfully. "Why?"

"You will be a great asset to me, Clara," Tom said persuasively. "I do need someone to keep me…in control."

Danielle blinked several times, her breath catching in her throat. She would never forgive herself if she just abandoned Dylan, Alphard and Alyssa, but Tom was dangerous and he would surely commit murder if there wasn't someone to stop him…

"I'll go with you," she finally mumbled, and instantly regretted her decision. Staying with him was putting herself at his mercy. At least with her friends there, she would have safety in numbers. Who knew what he would do to her, when they were so far removed from the rest of the world?

"You made the correct decision," Tom said smoothly, pulling her to her feet. "I feared that I would have had to take you along against your will."

"What happened to being so adamant about sending me back to London?" Danielle grumbled, ignoring his last comment.

"I realized I cannot leave you, Clara," he replied. "You know too much."

"About you?"

Tom nodded. "I considered killing you," he said, still in the same musing tone. "When I lured you down into the Chamber yesterday, I was planning on leaving you dead. It was not just the influence of the curse."

Danielle's heart dropped. "Then why didn't you?"

"I could not," Tom said bluntly, and turned away. The adder slithered down his arm and disappeared into the hay. "I am risking my life to keep you alive."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm risking _my_ life to keep _you_ alive," Danielle replied, somewhat awkwardly.

"You are exceptionally unintelligent, Clara," he responded sharply. "I—"

But he never got to finish his sentence, for the adder had glided over to Danielle and squeezed itself around her ankle. Tom hissed sharply and it reluctantly loosened its grip, but continued to watch her warily.

"Why is that thing here?" Danielle asked angrily. "Can you get rid of it, please?"

"His name is Anguis," Tom said. "I woke him up from his hibernation. He knows much about the Muggles who live here and the surrounding area."

"That's all very nice, but when are you going to put him back?" Danielle inquired, glaring suspiciously at the snake.

"I am not," Tom said. "He is coming along with us."

Her mouth fell open. "No, he is _not_! That thing hates me!"

The ghost of a smirk lit up Tom's face. "You are correct there, Clara," he said. "But as long as I keep him under control, he will not harm you. Adder bites are not usually fatal."

"Did you hear that?" Danielle asked the serpent. "Stay away from me."

"He cannot understand you," Tom said lazily, looking almost amused. He said something to the snake, which slithered away into a bed of straw. "But he promises not to hurt you."

 _Too bad I can't say the same for you, Tom,_ Danielle thought. She glanced down at the bag of food that was still on the floor, having completely forgotten about it. "Where did you get that, anyway?"

"The Muggles have enough food to feed the entire village and then some," Tom said dismissively, levitating Danielle's luggage with a careless wave of his wand. "Shall we start on our way, then?"

But Danielle didn't move. "You can't just steal food from someone's house!" she exclaimed. "That's wrong!"

"Would you like me to leave a note explaining who we are and where we are going, along with the fact that we took two of their horses as well?" Tom asked acerbically.

"Two of their _horses_?"

"I am not planning to walk to Albania," he said stiffly.

Danielle groaned. "At least leave them some money."

"I assume you have hordes of Muggle money to spend?" He sent her suitcase flying over the edge of the loft, where it unceremoniously crashed to the ground.

"No, but I'm still leaving a note," Danielle said stubbornly. She looked around for a writing implement, but when she found none, she settled for scuffing a message in the dirt with her shoe: _Took two horses and some food. Will leave compensation_.

"What compensation?" Tom asked, who had been observing her progress.

"I dunno, think of something," Danielle snapped.

His lip curled, but he grudgingly turned several pieces of straw into shiny gold bars.

"Happy?" he asked dangerously.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, pretending not to notice the momentary flash of red in his eyes. _Merlin, will it kill him to be a decent human being for once?_

Then she remembered it was Voldemort she was thinking this about, and felt sick.

* * *

When Tom left her to get the horses ready, Danielle quickly changed from her Hogwarts uniform to a more comfortable traveling outfit of a blouse, skirt (she hated the fact that she couldn't wear pants of any sort in this time) and stockings. She wasn't exactly sure how she would manage to ride a horse over long distances with a skirt this short, but it was fast becoming the least of her problems.

She couldn't stop wondering whether she had made the right decision. Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard would surely have realized she was gone by now. What would they think of the note Tom had left them? Would they be angry (surely they would) or would they be scared something had happened to her?

A soft hissing jerked her out of her thoughts. Anguis was slithering up beside her, sticking his forked tongue out. He seemed to be trying to communicate something.

"Tom's not here, sorry," Danielle told him, knowing full well he could not understand a word. "You'll have to wait until he gets back."

The snake coiled himself into a ball and rested his head on the ground, seeming resigned. Danielle was sure to step cautiously over him. "Tom and his snakes," she muttered. "Why can't he prefer a nicer pet, like bunnies or puppies?"

Someone cleared their throat from below. "Everything is ready, Clara," Tom himself called. Danielle peered over the ledge to see him standing at the bottom of the ladder.

"Coming," she called. Anguis rose up again, easily sliding down the ladder and out of sight.

Unluckily for Danielle, the rungs of the ladder were unstable and creaked dangerously as she placed her weight on them. She could feel Tom watching her below. "Can you catch me if I fa—" she began, but her foot caught on a loose nail and she tumbled straight down into Tom's arms.

He held her for a split second longer than he absolutely needed to, surprise temporarily written on his face. Time seemed to have frozen for that moment. For the briefest portion of a second, Danielle could feel everything—the warmth of his body pressing against hers, the way his hands curved around her back, and the steady pounding of his heart beating slightly faster than normal.

But the moment passed, and he set her firmly on the ground next to him. "The horses are outside," he said coldly, and strode towards the doors without a second glance at her.

Confused and slightly hurt, Danielle jogged after him. Just outside the barn doors were two horses tacked up and waiting—one an enormous black stallion with a proud arch to his neck, and next to him a slightly smaller chestnut mare who looked just as regal.

Tom had already swung himself up onto the stallion. Danielle saw a saddlebag, presumably under an Undetectable Extension Charm, securely tied on the horse's back. Anguis had stuck his head out of it and appeared to be watching her.

Hoping her skirt wouldn't tear or ride up, Danielle quickly mounted the chestnut mare and took the reins, feeling relieved that she at least had some method of control unlike on the Thestrals.

Without speaking to her, Tom turned his horse around and began riding away. "You can at least wait for me," Danielle grumbled, nudging her mare forward.

They trotted at first through the knee-deep snow, having to walk in some parts. Though they rode side by side, Tom didn't give any indication that Danielle was there, nor did his head turn towards her. She wanted to speak to him, but was afraid of what he would say. Had she done something wrong? All she'd done was slip and fall. Perhaps he wished he hadn't caught her, and she'd splattered into a million pieces on the ground.

He _had_ said he was planning to kill her…Danielle tried to suppress the nausea rising up inside her. Her hands shook and she felt tears sting at her eyes. That could be a possible explanation…

But if so, why hadn't he killed her yet?

Why _couldn't_ he kill her?

* * *

Once they had left farmland behind and came to an open road, they really began to ride. Galloping at full speed, with the icy wind blowing into her face, Danielle found it hard to concentrate on much else other than simply staying on. Her entire body felt as if it was frozen in the saddle. Her stomach growled. Tom had never said where they would be staying at night. Perhaps there was a village nearby, somewhere they could rest.

Danielle's wish was granted several hours later when she saw buildings in the distance. Night was falling and it was getting harder to see. The horses were tiring as well; they had slowed down to a canter but even that seemed to be too fast.

"The majority of this village are wizards," Tom said, his first words in hours, as they entered the town limits. "We should be able to stay at the local inn."

Danielle didn't ask how he knew this. After five minutes of riding through the streets, they came to a cozy-looking brick building that appeared to be a lodge of some sort.

They dismounted and as Tom led the horses away, Danielle entered the inn. She knew at once that it was magical: suitcases floated aimlessly around the room and everyone was dressed in flamboyant wizarding clothes.

The desk clerk looked at her suspiciously as she came up. "We only have one room available tonight," he said. "It has a double bed—who have you come with?"

Danielle thought fast. She could say Tom was her brother, but aside from their hair color they looked nothing alike. She could also say that they were 'friends', but that probably wouldn't bode well in this time.

There appeared to be only one more idea left. Tom would certainly punish her for it, but what choice did she have?

"I've come with my fiancé, sir," Danielle said pleadingly, making her eyes as wide an innocent-looking as possible. "Our families didn't—didn't approve of us getting married, so we're running away."

The clerk didn't look convinced. "Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts closed, sir," she said earnestly. "There have been several murders at the school and the Headmaster thought it best to send all the students home."

"So you and your… _fiancé_ are running away," the clerk repeated, sounding bored. "Where is he?"

"Outside with the horses," Danielle said, beginning to feel desperate. It was time to play the ultimate card. "We can't possibly travel any longer tonight, what with my… _condition_." She placed a hand on her stomach, hoping he would get the message.

This interested the clerk. He straightened up and made a disapproving noise. "Adolescents these days. They're being taught all the wrong values," he said, but handed her a key.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Danielle turned to go just as Tom entered, water running in little rivulets down his coat and onto the floor. He came over to her at once, his sharp eyes searching the room for any signs of danger.

"I wish you two all the best," the clerk told Danielle. "Have a good night."

Tom looked confused at first, but as he stared at the clerk, a look of realization and annoyance dawned on his features. He put his hand on Danielle's back and led her roughly toward a flight of stairs.

As soon as they were out of sight, he snatched his arm away from her as if she were poisonous. "Out of all the excuses you could have used, you had to say you were _pregnant_?" he snapped.

"I honestly couldn't think of anything else," Danielle protested as they climbed up the steps. "Besides, it worked, didn't it?"

Tom didn't answer to that, but the disgust on his face showed his true thoughts. Danielle wondered if the irritation was due to his own personality, or if it was just a sign of the times. Back in 2011, teenage pregnancy wasn't _that_ much of a scandal. Plus, it said something that they were supposedly getting married, right?

Their tiny room was on the very top floor of the inn. The only furniture was a bed and a dressing-table, with a door adjoining to a bathroom. Danielle felt her heart beat faster imagining the two of them trying to sleep in that tiny bed.

"Perhaps you should rest, _dear,_ " Tom said as soon as the door had shut behind them. "After all, it must have been a long and tiring day for you and the child."

Danielle glared at him, but went over to sit on the bed anyway. A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lay folded up on the pillow.

While Tom unpacked the saddlebag, Danielle read the article on the front page;

_Another Mysterious Death at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Hogwarts Headmaster Armando Dippet tells the_ Daily Prophet _that another death has been confirmed at the school late yesterday._

_The identity of the victim has been revealed to be a third-year Gryffindor boy, Charlus Potter—_

The newspaper slipped out of Danielle's hands and fell to the floor. Tom looked suspiciously at her. "What is wrong?"

But she couldn't answer. All that came out was a repeat of, "Oh, Merlin. Oh, my God. No— _no_ —"

Now Tom was beside her, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around to face him. "Clara!" he said sharply. "What is it?"

Charlus Potter was dead. Harry Potter would never be born. It couldn't be—someone was playing a joke on her—

"He's dead," Danielle choked. "That's not possible."

Tom was speaking to her, but she wasn't listening. The room spun around her.

Everything was ruined. _Everything._ It wasn't just some minor little thing she had messed up; it was the death of the ancestor of one of the most famous wizards in all history.

Danielle had never been so glad to faint.


	30. Formulating Plans

Danielle's blessed unconscious was short-lived, however, as Tom immediately revived her. "What happened?" he asked as soon as she opened her eyes, his gaze wary and alert.

"Nothing…I was just shocked that Charlus Potter was dead. I thought the basilisk only went after Muggle-borns," Danielle croaked, hoping her Occlumency was working. She'd only had one lesson with Dumbledore, and that hadn't gone so well.

"Without anyone to control her, she will attack anyone," Tom replied. "She does not make a distinction between blood statuses."

Danielle was barely listening to him. She was still shaking uncontrollably. Dumbledore needed to hear the entire story; screw not changing the future! It had already been changed beyond repair.

Some of the wariness had left Tom's eyes, but he was still watching her closely. "Do you need a Calming Draught?" he asked.

Danielle nodded and attempted to stand, but Tom pushed her back down onto the bed. "Where do you think you are going?"

"To get a Calming Draught," she said, confused. "You mean you're going to get it for me?"

"Do not sound so surprised," Tom said, his eyes narrowing. "I will be back shortly."

"Have you ever thought of using contractions?" Danielle muttered, staring daggers at his back as he left the room.

As soon as he had disappeared, she heard a tapping at the window. There appeared to be a bird of some sort perched on the ledge. She got out of bed and went over to the window, where the barn owl she had sent to London the other morning was peering through the glass at her.

Danielle opened the window and the owl flew into the room, neatly dropping a letter into her outstretched hands. She folded it open eagerly and read the text inside:

_Dear Clara,_

_My younger sister's name is Matilda, I believe. Matilda Stubbs. She's exactly a year younger than me, but I've never met her and I don't know where she is now. Have you heard something about her?_

_Billy_

This was it: the confirmation of what Danielle had suspected ever since her dreams had started. Billy's long-lost sister was Danielle's maternal grandmother. He was her great-uncle.

Things were definitely getting strange now. Her parents had always told her that they had gone into hiding during the Second Wizarding War because they were Muggle-borns. But in her dream of last week, Yaxley had said, "They might have escaped though, if it hadn't been that the Dark Lord personally ordered your entire family's slaughter. Your brother was the first to go, wasn't he? He had the honor of being killed by the Dark Lord personally—"

Ice flooded through Danielle's veins and she had to grip the bedpost in order to avoid fainting again. Voldemort had personally killed Billy Stubbs—he'd ordered her family dead— _he_ was the reason they had gone into hiding—but why had Danielle been sent to Paris to live with her grandparents? How had she survived Patrick and Matilda's deaths? And most important of all, who was William?

Danielle sank to the ground as Tom re-entered the room. He was next to her in a second. "I thought I told you not to move, Clara," he said, his tone reprimanding.

She stared vacantly up at him. All she could think was, _You did it. You did it._

"What is in your hand?" Tom asked. He noticed the open window and the owl resting on the dressing-table. "Who wrote to you?"

When she didn't answer, he knelt down and saw Billy's letter tightly clenched in her fist. "Drink this," Tom ordered, handing Danielle a flask. She mutely took it and drained it in one, her muscles instantly relaxing as the potion flowed through her bloodstream.

But she should have foreseen what he would do. As her hand unclenched, he pulled the piece of parchment from her outstretched fingers and unfolded it.

Danielle watched him with empty eyes. What was the point of anything anyway? Charlus was dead, the entire timeline was royally messed up, and _she_ would probably be dead in the next twenty-four hours. She might as well confess her feelings for him now and throw herself off of the roof of the inn to end it all.

But once Tom saw the letter was from Billy, his eyes narrowed in disgust and he crumpled it back up. "Why are you corresponding with _him_?" he asked harshly.

"Because he's my friend," Danielle said, feeling the blood rush back into her cheeks. "Besides, why do you care so much? Can't you just mind your own business?"

Tom's face contorted. For a moment, his true emotions shone through his blank mask. He looked exactly like Dylan had when Danielle talked about Billy.

He was jealous.

Taken off guard by this new revelation, she got to her feet, not quite sure what to do. "Er…are you all right, Tom?" Danielle asked.

He seemed to be breathing shallowly, his hands clenched into fists. His eyes held a tinge of red. She had gone too far.

"Tom!" Danielle said, pulling out her wand. But he had realized he was losing control before she did. Moving with rigid, jerky actions, he stood up and began to walk towards the door. "I have to leave," he whispered.

And Danielle understood. He was leaving before he could completely lose control; leaving before he could hurt her. But what about everybody _else_ he would encounter?

Recent discoveries gone from her mind, Danielle sprinted over to the door and jumped in front of him, blocking his path. Dimly, she saw the owl swoop out of the open window towards safety.

Tom tried to push her aside as his eyes rapidly clouded over. Danielle pointed her wand at his heart, her own pounding in her ears. _Do something that will take him by surprise,_ her mind told her. He would be expecting a curse or physical assault…but what about—

It was probably one of the stupidest things she could possibly do, but Danielle still did it anyway. Throwing her wand aside, she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him full on the lips.

She was right: he definitely wasn't expecting it. Tom staggered backwards as Danielle threw herself at him with all the strength she had, tangling her hands in his hair.

Her entire body sang; her heart was thumping furiously. She had never, not even in her wildest dreams, imagined kissing someone like this. It was adrenaline and peril mixed up with excitement and a wild emotion she had never experienced before.

Tom had his arms at his sides at first, but now Danielle felt them wrap around her waist, drawing her closer to him. She took this as an opportunity to pull back slightly and stare at his face.

His eyes were no longer red; instead they burned blue with a savage fire. She had never seen an emotion this strong on anyone before—rage? Was it still somehow the curse? Was he about to kill her?

Danielle tried to step back, but Tom didn't let her. She heard herself cry out as he violently pulled her face back to his, and then he was kissing her even more fiercely than she had kissed him, so hard that it hurt.

He must be trying to distract himself so that he wouldn't lose control. Danielle was more than happy to aid him in that. She ran her hands down his neck to his shoulders, feeling him shudder. He was holding her so close that she was beginning to go numb, but who cared?

After several desperate, frantic moments, Tom took his lips off of hers to give her room to breathe. Danielle hadn't even realized she was gasping, but her words only came out in the form of his name. The feral emotion racing through her gave her strength and she leaned forward to kiss him again.

But he had gone rigid. Surprised, her head swimming, Danielle's eyes roved over his face as she tried to find out why he had stopped. She saw his eyes mirrored her own, but there was revulsion and pure loathing swimming in their depths.

So fast she had no time to react, Tom roughly pushed her away from him and strode towards the door, yanking it open and then slamming it behind him with equal force.

Shell-shocked, Danielle could only stare after him, her lips aching and her whole body pulsing with a feeling she didn't understand. She wasn't worried about him succumbing to the curse just now; her instincts told her that much. So it must be her—she had done something wrong.

Starting to shake again, Danielle managed to walk on wobbling legs to close the window and then climb into bed. Tears slid through her closed eyelids. What had she done? Would he ever come back?

There came a loud hissing noise from somewhere across the room. "Oh, shut up, you stupid snake," Danielle moaned into her pillow.

Though she couldn't see it, Anguis slithered across the floor towards the bed, curling himself around the bedpost. He flicked his tongue out and watched Danielle with unblinking eyes.

* * *

The blizzard that night was harsh and unforgiving. Any normal soul, wizard or Muggle alike, with a spark of sense in their head had the intelligence to stay safely locked up inside once the snowstorm started. Even though the town housed a fair amount of inhabitants, the streets were completely deserted.

Tom Riddle, however, thrived under harsh and unforgiving conditions. Both genetics and the environment he had grown up in—namely the "survival of the fittest" atmosphere of Vauxhall Orphanage—had molded him into what he was. Vetus Periculosus aside, physically he could survive almost anything. Alas, mentally was a different story.

He had wanted Clara for months now; imagined her finally under his control. So why was it that when she had quite literally thrown herself at him, he had fled like a coward? There was no doubt that if he had allowed it to continue, he would have gotten his wish. She was the only human so far who could trigger his curse; she was also the only human who could make it stop. Tom had done precisely what he had promised himself he would not do: he had let her in too far. And now he was paying the price.

The monster inside him stirred; it was restless and was annoyed at having to be subdued. Tom pushed it back down firmly, though; he could not afford to lose control tonight.

His horse was fast asleep when he reached the stable, but with a sharp click of his tongue Tom roused the beast. The animal whinnied in protest as Tom roughly saddled it up and forced the bridle over its head. In the next stall, Clara's chestnut mare sleepily lifted its head to survey the scene. It stamped its foot angrily as it saw its companion being taken away, but Tom paid it no heed.

A violent gust of wind greeted animal and rider as they left the stable. The horse attempted to pull away, but with a simple spell Tom silenced it and made it docile. He dug his heels into the horse's sides and they galloped off into the night.

* * *

Danielle woke up late the next morning with a terrible headache. As she groggily raised her head, she noticed with a painful jolt that Tom still hadn't come back. Even though the saddlebag was still lying on the table where he'd left it, she had a horrible feeling that perhaps he would never come back.

Anguis was lounging on the windowsill, looking far more intelligent than a snake should. Danielle was careful not to get any closer to him than she absolutely had to as she climbed out of bed and grabbed some new clothes. She discreetly surveyed the room for any clues that Tom had come back sometime in the night, but not one thing was out of place.

After she took what was quite possibly the longest, hottest shower of her life, Danielle left the humid bathroom for the colder, harsher air of the bedroom— _too_ cold. The window was now open and Anguis was gone.

Heart in her throat, Danielle raised her wand, but no one appeared to be in the room. It was impossible that the snake could have somehow opened the window by himself…could it?

Danielle stuck her head outside, but Anguis was nowhere to be seen. A blizzard of some sort must have hit the town last night, judging by the fresh layer of snow blanketing everything. Her heart skipped a beat—was Tom all right?

When her search for Anguis proved fruitless, she shut the window again and sat down at the dressing-table, staring at the picture of Charlus Potter in the newspaper and mulling over her current problems:

1) She was stranded, alone, in a tiny town in southern Scotland with no idea what she was doing or where she was going.

2) Even if Tom came back, she was _still_ in a tiny town in southern Scotland with no idea what she was doing or where she was going, but with the added bonus of knowing she had feelings for him and that he could kill her at any moment.

3) Hogwarts was closed and a basilisk was currently slithering about the castle and destroying the place searching for food.

4) Charlus Potter was dead, meaning that his grandson Harry Potter would never be born, meaning that even if Danielle somehow _did_ get back to the future, it wouldn't be the same place she had left.

5) She couldn't even write to Dumbledore telling him of her problems because the owl had flown away and she had no way of getting another one.

6) She had abandoned what were perhaps her only friends in the middle of nowhere.

7) What with her completely destroying the past seventy years, she was liable to disappear out of existence at any moment, once the future changed to her not being born.

Yep, just typical adolescent annoyances.

Danielle slumped down in her chair, opened her mouth, and screamed.

* * *

Two hours later, she was pacing furiously up and down the length of the room, inwardly cursing everything and anything. She couldn't just wait for Tom forever; though she had money enough to stay at the inn for several more nights, where would she go after that? Back to Vauxhall Orphanage, perhaps? It seemed the only choice. There she could go to Diagon Alley and write to Dumbledore explaining everything. If she was lucky, maybe he would come and fetch her. He had to be able to figure out _something_. If he couldn't, nobody could.

Feeling rather more cheerful with a plan in mind, Danielle set about packing. Every time she heard footsteps in the hallway outside, her heart jumped—but Tom never returned. For all she knew, he could be halfway to London, she though miserably. He would certainly have no problems locating a fireplace and Floo'ing to Albania. She just hoped he would be able to locate the diadem.

Danielle slung the saddlebag over her shoulder and was about to leave the room when a cold blast of air on her back caught her attention. Turning around, she saw that the window was open again and a now-familiar snake was slithering towards her.

"I'm not even going to bother wondering how you survived out there, let alone how you opened the damn window," Danielle grumbled to herself as she firmly shut the window again. Anguis slid into the saddlebag with what she assumed would be a self-satisfied expression, if snakes could smirk.

Downstairs, the clerk's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Good afternoon, madam," he said as she came up to the front desk. "How did you enjoy your stay?"

"Very well, thank you," Danielle said, shaking some Galleons out into his hand.

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but hesitated. She waited patiently until he finally muttered, "I saw your…er… _fiancé_ leaving late last night. I trust everything is well?"

"Yes, it is, sir," Danielle replied, not wanting to get into the technicalities just then.

He looked relieved. "I just thought—but never mind. Have a safe trip, Miss…?"

"Ashford," she said. "And thank you."

Luckily, it had stopped snowing by the time she got to the stable. It would make for a faster and safer ride. If Danielle was lucky, she could get to London within two or three days.

Tom's black stallion was gone, but her chestnut mare (whom she privately called Ginger) was still there and waiting patiently for her. As Danielle led the horse away, she attempted to tie the saddlebag onto Ginger's back but ended up dropping it. An angry hiss sounded from inside the bag.

"Be quiet!" Danielle snapped. "I couldn't help it!"

She leaned over to pick it back up but a hand suddenly shot out from somewhere beside her, grabbing onto her wrist.

Danielle glanced up to see who had stopped her—and realized she was looking straight into the face of Tom Riddle.


	31. Diagon Alley

Tom wasn't looking at her, but at the saddlebag she had dropped. "I would not pick that up unless I wanted to suffer from a particularly painful snake bite," he said coldly, dropping her hand at once.

Danielle was frozen in place, staring up in shock at him. "You—you came back," she stuttered. "Why?"

"It would be extremely foolish, not to mention dangerous, leaving you here," Tom said, turning his attention now to his horse. "A fifteen-year-old girl alone, even in a town of this size, is never safe."

 _Are you trying to say you cared enough about me to come back?_ "I'm almost sixteen," Danielle grumbled, but inside she was screaming with joy. Her eyes roved over his face, noticing tiny changes: purple shadows seemed almost to be carved permanently into the lines under his eyes and there was something missing from his expression. His jaw was set in a stubborn, almost determined way.

"Where were you planning to go?" Tom asked suddenly. He turned his face to her for the first time, but Danielle noticed he was careful not to look into her eyes.

"I was going to go back to the orphanage," she admitted. It was getting harder and harder to lie to him. At the beginning it had been so easy…

His eyebrows rose slightly. "What about your aunt?"

Danielle had completely forgotten that she supposedly had a family member still alive. "She's—er—still in Holland."

Tom's eyebrows rose even higher. Danielle quickly looked away from him, towards Ginger. She nickered softly and swished her tail, evidently eager to be going.

"Interesting," Tom whispered after several seconds. Danielle had the uncomfortable sense that he knew she was lying. To ease the tension, she grabbed the saddlebag and shut it before Anguis could stick his head out. "Are we going?" she asked.

He watched her for another moment before curtly nodding. Wordlessly, he led his horse (Danielle was suddenly struck with the name Ebony) out of the stable. She followed closely behind him, feeling suddenly off-kilter.

* * *

Like the previous day (had it only been yesterday?) the two of them rode silently through fields and farms, stopping occasionally to give the horses a rest. Tom and Danielle barely spoke, only to comment on the conditions of the horses and how much longer it would be until they reached London.

Her watch said it was past midnight when they finally stopped for the evening. Tom was able to create in five seconds the same tent that had taken the combined strengths of Danielle, Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard nearly ten minutes to do. Personally, she would have preferred to stop in another town, but they were even deeper in the countryside than the Muggle farm had been.

There was a partition separating Danielle's side of the tent from Tom's side. With little more than a "Good night", he disappeared, leaving her alone.

Even though he was less than ten meters from her, Danielle still felt as if he had left again. Judging by his actions, he didn't want to face what had happened the night before. _Strong emotions can trigger the curse,_ the book had said. But merely kissing him wouldn't do that—unless—

That was impossible, though. Voldemort was unable to love. He was a heartless shell of a man—if he could even be _counted_ as human.

But was Tom Riddle?

* * *

After a breakfast consisting of the stolen fruits and vegetables, they set off on their way once more. They were three-quarters of the way to London now, and Danielle felt a stirring of hope. There had to be a fireplace _somewhere_ where they could Floo to Albania. Otherwise, they would have to leave the horses behind and sneak on a boat to France, ultimately having to cross most of Europe.

"There it is." Tom finally broke the silence late in the afternoon. Danielle turned her head to where he was looking and relief washed through her as she caught sight of the tall buildings of London in the distance.

They had gotten there just in time—Ginger and Ebony were both tiring. There was a horse farm several miles outside of the city that looked promising. Danielle and Tom both dismounted and released their horses into the field.

"Goodbye, Ebony and Ginger," Danielle called after them, crossing her fingers that the owners would take good care of them and not mind the mysterious appearance of two other horses.

"Ebony and Ginger?" Tom scoffed. "That seems a bit unoriginal."

She ignored him, though, and they set off to walk the rest of the distance.

* * *

The sun was just setting over the horizon as they arrived in London. Danielle was physically and mentally exhausted—traveling nonstop for three days tended to do that to a person. She hoped that they would at least spend the night somewhere and not try to find a fireplace right away.

To her surprise, Tom led them straight to the Leaky Cauldron. "Are we staying here tonight?" Danielle asked hopefully as they entered the pub.

He looked sideways at her with what she could have sworn was an almost-smile. "Yes, Clara. We are staying here."

The Leaky Cauldron was almost deserted. The only people in sight were Danielle, Tom and an old barman leaning on the counter.

"His name is Tom, too!" Danielle exclaimed, instantly beaming. Though she had never spoken to him directly, she recognized Tom the barman instantly. Seeing a familiar face immediately cheered her up.

"I would not be so surprised. It is quite a common name, in case you failed to notice." the first Tom said dryly. He went over to the counter and said something to the barman, who nodded and gave him two keys.

"We're in different rooms?" Danielle asked him as he came back, realizing what a stupid question that had been as soon as she said it.

A smirk pulled at Tom's lips. "Were you expecting anything else, Clara?"

"No," she mumbled, shamefaced. How could she be so stupid?

They climbed up a set of rickety wooden stairs to a second floor. Though the bar downstairs had been dark and grimy, things looked decidedly cleaner and more respectable upstairs.

"Tom," Danielle blurted out as they were about to go into their respective rooms. "Can I ask you something?"

He elegantly raised an eyebrow at her. Taking that as an affirmative, Danielle rushed out with, "Why did you leave two nights ago?"

His expression didn't change as he replied, "You know why that is, Clara."

"No—I mean—" She felt as if she had said the wrong thing. "Why were you so—"

Tom didn't answer at first, but she saw his knuckles whiten as he gripped the doorknob with more force than it should normally be held. "You know that answer as well," he said, with a touch of coldness to his voice. "Good night." With that, he went into his room and shut the door.

Danielle went into her room more slowly, mulling over his words. He was right, she finally concluded. She _did_ know the answer. But was it one that was even possible?

"I'm _not_ special," she said out loud, walking over to the mirror that stood by the window. She looked terrible: her hair was even more tangled and messy than usual, her face was streaked with dirt, her clothes were ripped and her eyes looked as if they had lost some essential spark. "I'm not special enough for _anyone,_ let alone him."

The mirror gave a sudden snort, causing Danielle to jump back in surprise. "Perhaps you should start thinking about whether _he's_ special enough for _you_ , deary," it said.

Danielle scowled at her reflection. "But he's _Tom Riddle_ ," she told it, as if that explained it all.

"So?" the mirror asked her, and then fell silent.

That was a first…a talking mirror. Exhausted, Danielle curled up on the comfortable four-poster bed that reminded her of the one at Hogwarts. She would go to Diagon Alley tomorrow and send the letter to Dumbledore…but she would have to get up early, so Tom wouldn't know where she was going. Danielle doubted he would be very happy when he found out who she was writing to.

* * *

At precisely eight o'clock the next morning, Danielle found herself hurrying through the already-bustling streets of Diagon Alley. Her plan to wake up before Tom had apparently worked; there had been no sign of him in the pub and his door had been tightly closed when she'd tiptoed past it.

Eeylops Owl Emporium was packed with people and Danielle managed to slip in unnoticed. (The owl that Dumbledore had given to her when she'd first arrived in the past was long gone; seeing as how she had no need to send to receive letters, she'd given it to Alyssa as a sixteenth birthday present several weeks before.)

An excited screech owl landed on her shoulder, hooting loudly. Danielle stroked its head absent-mindedly. "D'you want me to buy you?" she asked it. "Is that why you're so excited?"

The owl shrieked in reply and flapped its wings eagerly. Danielle couldn't help but grin as she made her way up to the front desk and purchased the owl. It looked quite hardy and easily able to fly long distances, which was what she needed.

The smile was wiped off of her face, however, as she realized leaving the shop that she had almost run out of money. Her Galleons were becoming few and far between, and she had no way to get any more. From what she knew, Tom didn't have any money on him either. Perhaps she could write and ask Dumbledore for some, but that would be humiliating.

Across the street, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour had been converted into a cocoa shop for the winter. Danielle ducked into it gratefully and worked on her letter to Dumbledore while sipping her drink. Looking at the calendar on the wall, she was surprised to see that it was the beginning of February. She had been in the past for only five months…to her it seemed more like five years.

The bell above the shop door tinkled and Danielle automatically glanced up at the rush of cold air. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw none other than Olive Hornby, accompanied by Abraxas Malfoy and looking as scornful as ever.

Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, Danielle hunched down over the table, praying they hadn't seen her.

"I must say, we've been away from Hogwarts for a week and I find it a relaxing break so far," Olive was saying loudly. Abraxas grunted in agreement. "Have you heard that the teachers are all still up at the school? Maybe if we're lucky, one of them will end up with Myrtle!"

Abraxas laughed and, to Danielle's horror, sat down at the table next to her. "I heard they're calling in the Ministry of Magic to kill whatever monster is in there," he said. "Good riddance to whomever it gets in the meantime."

"Maybe Ashford is still trapped in there somewhere," Olive said gleefully. "They still haven't found her, have they?"

"I dunno," said Abraxas. "The papers aren't making a big deal out of it. I suspect Dippet is hushing it all up so he won't look bad. Isn't Riddle also missing?"

"Yes, and I'll bet you the kitten that Father got me that he's with Ashford," Olive replied. "What does he see in her, anyway? The girl's a freak!"

"Speaking of freaks, what about her friends?" Abraxas asked. "My uncle says that the MacDougals and Alphard Black arrived home early yesterday morning. Supposedly they were with Ashford, but she just disappeared."

Olive snorted. "Serves her right," she said spitefully. "She's probably hiding in a forest somewhere."

Abraxas nodded and took a sip of his cocoa. He immediately started coughing. "This is the worst thing I've ever tasted," he spat at a startled Fortescue. "Make something _real_ next time, will you?"

Olive looked distastefully at her own cup. "Let's go, Abraxas," she said, standing up and striding towards the door. "I don't even know why we came here."

Leaving his cocoa spilled all over the table, Abraxas followed her out of the shop. Danielle felt it safe to raise her head, taking deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

She managed to finish the rest of her letter in the next ten minutes, but she was so flustered she signed it _Danielle Bailey._ Scratching it out, she rewrote _Clara Ashford_ on it and left the shop, making sure to tell Fortescue on her way out that the cocoa was the best thing she'd had in a long time.

Outside, her new owl—Alistair—was more than ready to start his first journey. Danielle tied the letter to his leg and gave him plenty of treats before sending him off. He circled around the alley several times before soaring away into the distance.

As she headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, her mind was racing. So Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard had managed to get back home safely. She was relieved, but also extremely worried. What did they think of her now? Would they ever trust her again? She made a mental note to write Alyssa as soon as Alistair came back with Dumbledore's reply.

In the pub, Tom was still nowhere to be seen. Danielle hurried up the staircase and into her room, closing her door quietly. As soon as she was safely inside she sighed in relief and turned around to see—

"Where have you been, Clara?" a voice asked softly from the window.

Danielle dropped her bag in terror. "T—Tom! What are you doing in my room?"

"The door was open," Tom said, smirking. He twirled his wand between his fingers as he turned away from his spot beside the window.

"That's no reason to just walk into someone else's room!" Danielle said shrilly, mentally smacking herself. She had been in such a hurry to leave that she had forgotten to shut the door behind her. Had Tom gone through her things? Had he seen the mysterious package from Dumbledore?

"Why are you so bothered, Clara?" Tom asked, his smirk growing even wider. "Is there something you are hiding from me?"

"No, but would _you_ like it if I went through your room?"

His eyes narrowed, but Danielle's mirror interjected with, "Would you two _please_ quarrel somewhere else? I'm trying to sleep here!"

"If you had let me speak, you would understand the urgency of our situation," Tom began in a lower voice, walking over to her. "What I came to tell you was that the Hornbys and Malfoys are staying here for several nights, and Septimus Malfoy has already spotted me."

So that was why Olive and Abraxas had been in Fortescue's. "Does he know you're supposed to be missing?" Danielle asked.

"Most likely not, but I am sure Abraxas will mention it sooner or later," Tom said. "There is a fireplace in my room—we can Floo to Albania from there." He waved his wand and all of Danielle's belongings came flying into her arms.

"Do you know where we'll be Floo'ing _to_?" Danielle asked as she staggered across the hallway into Tom's room, her arms full.

"There is an inn of sorts just outside of the capital," Tom said. "I think I have tracked down roughly where the diadem is as well."

So at least they were getting _somewhere_. Danielle dropped her things and stood next to the fireplace as Tom threw a handful of Floo powder into the grate. The fire flared up instantly, glowing a bright green.

"You go first," Tom said, passing her the cup of powder. "Just say _Druri Inn, Tirana_."

Danielle nodded and shook out some powder into her hands, grabbing her bag with her free hand. Just as she stepped into the fire, she heard voices in the hall. Through the shimmering flames she could see Tom get up and shut the door. Danielle closed her eyes. "Druri Inn, Tirana!" she shouted and the room disappeared.


	32. The Druri Inn

Danielle was, rather rudely, being reminded of all the reasons why she hated Floo'ing. She was spinning so fast she felt as if she would be sick; there was a dull roaring in her ears and her entire body was shaking. Cold nausea tied her stomach into knots.

As quickly as it had begun, the spinning stopped and she unceremoniously lost her balance, tumbling out of the fireplace and falling hard on her hands and knees.

There was a gasp from somewhere above her and footsteps hurried towards the spot where she lay.

"I'm fine," Danielle panted, waving away the offer of help and getting to her feet. She was standing in a small, cozy room with a huge mahogany desk seated in the far corner. Tinny music played from a gramophone on a stand near the door, which was slightly ajar.

The only other person in the room was a short old lady with enormous spectacles and a shock of white hair, who looked rather startled at Danielle's sudden appearance. Noticing her curious stare, she began to chatter in a strange language.

Danielle winced. She hadn't given much thought to the language barrier. "Do you speak English?" she ventured to ask.

The old lady paused for a second before saying in a heavily accented voice, "Yes— my granddaughter speaks it better though."

"Is this the Druri Inn?" Danielle asked.

The old lady nodded. "We do not get Floo visitors often. The war has stopped many people from leaving home." She stepped back quickly as the fire flared up again, this time revealing Tom. Danielle watched in envy as he eloquently stepped out of the fireplace with not a speck of ash or dirt on his clothes.

"Oh, another one!" the lady exclaimed, looking disgruntled. "How many people are with you?" she asked Danielle.

"Just the two of us," Danielle replied. "We're—er—here visiting our…er…friend."

Tom gave her a withering look as if to say _Pathetic_ and turned to the lady. He began speaking in a quick, guttural language, sounding as if he had known it for years.

Danielle watched him, open-mouthed. She couldn't sound like that if she tried. Since when could Tom speak Albanian?

The old lady looked delighted when he finished speaking. Gesturing with her hands, she pointed towards the door and replied animatedly. Tom looked politely interested, clasping his hands behind his back and nodding. Danielle stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Finally the lady finished speaking and held her hand out to Tom, shaking his vigorously. She seemed to have forgotten Danielle existed.

After the enthusiastic greeting, the lady beckoned for them to follow her and hurried out of the room. Danielle threw Tom a questioning glance.

"Her name is Kaltrina and she owns this inn," he said in a low voice. "It should be fairly inconspicuous here."

Danielle scowled. "You could have at least told me how to say 'I don't speak Albanian' in Albanian!"

He smirked at her.

Meanwhile, Kaltrina had led them down a tiny hallway and up a set of stairs to an even tinier hallway with several doors branching off of it. "Here are your rooms," she said, seeming annoyed she had to switch back to English. "Cost is three Galleons per night."

"Three Galleons?" Danielle asked, dismayed. She had, at most, ten Galleons left.

Tom shot her a warning look. He said something in Albanian to Kaltrina, who nodded and bustled away.

As soon as she had gone, Danielle immediately began talking. "How do you know Albanian? How long are we planning on staying here for? Do you know where the dia—"

Instantly, Tom reached out and clapped his hand over her mouth. "Quiet," he hissed. "Have you no sense?"

Danielle tried to pry his fingers away, but he was too strong. It was only after he had pulled her into the nearest room and shut the door behind him that he finally let go.

"When will you learn to hold your tongue, Clara?" Tom growled, audibly clenching his jaw.

"Well, _sorry_ ," Danielle snapped back, crossing her arms. "Perhaps if you'd actually answered my questions beforehand, I wouldn't have asked you now!"

For one wild second, he seemed about to yell, but thankfully just exhaled noisily and turned away from her. "To answer your questions," he began in a tone of forced calm, "I have been doing research on Albania for several months now. It is logical to assume that I have picked up some useful linguistic skills as well. Nothing is preventing you from doing the same. Secondly, we will stay here until we find the diadem. If my research is correct—and it should be—the forest where it is located is several miles from here."

Danielle watched him closely. His posture made it clear he did not want her to press him any longer, but there was still so much she wanted to ask him. What was he planning to do once he found the diadem? If somehow he did "cure" himself, as it were, who would he be—a completely different person, or still the same Tom Riddle?

Would he still want to become immortal and take over the entire wizarding world? And…how did he feel about her?

"I—I only have ten Galleons left," she finally said in a small voice. "That will only last me three nights…"

"I have twenty," Tom replied emotionlessly. "That means we can only stay here for five nights. I expect the diadem to be found before then, fortunately."

Danielle felt a tiny spark of relief. Dumbledore would reply back within five nights and help her, wouldn't he?

A familiar hiss let her know Anguis was nearby. The adder, which had been silent for much of the trip, had slid out of the saddlebag and was slithering towards her. But as he neared Danielle, Tom hissed at him. The snake obediently stopped and wound himself into a coil.

"Why'd you do that?" Danielle asked.

"Something is not right with him," Tom murmured, almost to himself. "He is far too…clever. It is almost as if…" But he trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to finish his sentence, Danielle headed for the door. "Well, I'll see you at dinner then," she said, hoping to break him out of his trance.

Tom merely nodded. Was it just her, or was his hand reaching for his wand?

Not staying to find out, Danielle quickly left the room and crossed the hallway to see her abode: a large, comfortable space with a plush carpet and a magnificent four-poster bed. The inn was much larger than she had originally thought. Perhaps it would turn out to be worth the three Galleons a night.

Her luggage was waiting for her next to her bed. Danielle opened her suitcase and rummaged around inside for two things: the package from Dumbledore and the Vita Servo, which thankfully were both still there and intact.

After a careful examination of the package, Danielle concluded that there was no possible way she could open it. Well, if Dumbledore had said she couldn't until it was time, then he must be correct.

The Vita Servo, on the other hand, had turned from swirling purple clouds to swirling red clouds. Danielle wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing. The orb felt warmer in her hands and seemed almost to pulse, like a heartbeat. Should she have used it by now? Was there an expiry date or something of the sort?

She glanced back down into her suitcase and saw the dog-eared cover of _Wuthering Heights_ sticking out. Well, she might as well finish the novel while she still had time.

Danielle opened the book and settled back onto the bed, glad that, at least for now, she could still escape back into the (somewhat) simpler Muggle world.

* * *

_She was walking hand-in-hand with Dylan, through the bright, cheerful streets of Hogsmeade. The area were completely deserted save for another couple coming up the road towards them._

" _So, when d'you think we should have it?" Dylan asked, pulling Danielle closer to him._

" _Have what?" she replied, confused. Her eyes were fixed on the other approaching couple, who looked strangely familiar…_

" _The wedding, of course," Dylan exclaimed. "Mother and Father expect me to get married as soon as I graduate Hogwarts, and I'm sure your aunt will be thrilled. It might take a bit of coaxing, but your blood is three-quarters pure, isn't it? That should be enough for my parents."_

" _Wedding? What wedding?" Danielle asked, panic rising up in her throat. Dylan looked strangely at her and brought their intertwined hands up to her face. She saw, glittering on her ring finger, an enormous sparkling diamond._

" _You were more than thrilled when I proposed," Dylan said, sounding baffled. "Are you feeling all right, Clara? Do you need the hospital wing?"_

" _For Merlin's sake, we're still in fifth year, Dylan!" Danielle shrieked, forgetting about the other couple. "That's far too young—"_

_"Fifth year?" her…fiancé said, now looking worried. "You definitely need to go to the hospital wing. Clara, we're both eighteen. It's 1945."_

_There were so many things wrong with this. Her heart beating frantically, Danielle stopped walking and stared at him with wild eyes. "Dylan—"_

" _Having fun?" a familiar voice called out from beside her. Danielle whirled around and, with the biggest shock of her life, found herself facing Alyssa and Tom. Like herself and Dylan, they were holding hands, but the difference was they seemed utterly content. "Planning the wedding date, Clara?" Alyssa continued. "A summer wedding would be nice...you could even double up with Tom and I!" She smiled up at him._

" _Tom!" Danielle cried. "You—you—you're_ engaged? _"_

_He barely glanced at her. "Yes, I just proposed this morning."_

" _Where's your ring?" Dylan asked._

" _It will be a surprise," Tom replied. He bent down to whisper something in Alyssa's ear. She giggled wildly and buried her face in his shoulder._

_A wave of sickening jealousy engulfed Danielle. She tried to look away, but her eyes were glued to Tom and Alyssa, horrified._

" _Anyway, let's go, Tom," her best friend was saying, looking adoringly at him. "I want to get to our room. We booked a room in The Three Broomsticks tonight as an anniversary present," she informed Dylan and Danielle._

" _Perhaps we should do that too," Dylan said thoughtfully._

_Danielle wanted to vomit. What happened to Dylan's protectiveness towards his twin? Wouldn't spending the night together be a terrible scandal in the 1940's?_

_Meanwhile, Tom was running his fingers through Alyssa's hair. "Yes, we should go," he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of her head. His hand drifted leisurely down her body, finally stopping just below her stomach. It curved around a small bump that looked odd on Alyssa's tiny frame._

" _NO!" Danielle screamed as soon as she had figured it out, ripping her hand out of Dylan's. "Alyssa, you're not—"_

_Her friend put a finger to her lips. "Shhh," she giggled. "I'm not due till next January. Tom and I will be long married by then, and Mother and Father need never know."_

" _Aren't you bothered by this?" Danielle asked Dylan, rounding on him. Everything had turned a strange red hue._

_He shrugged. "Perhaps I should be, but I'm really not in the position to talk."_

" _What do you mean?" Danielle breathed, her mind sluggishly putting together the horrible truth. For the first time, she looked down at herself—and realized her stomach was much larger than natural._

_The world began to spin. Danielle fell back into Dylan's arms. "She's just tired," she heard him saying from far away. "We're planning on trying to keep this baby a secret as well."_

" _Well, good luck!" Alyssa said. "Just think—they'll be cousins! We have to pick out matching names and everything. Right, Tom?"_

_"Of course, love," he replied in a very un-Tom-Riddle-like way, looking as though he would torture himself if Alyssa asked him to. Pain ripped apart Danielle's very being._

" _Shall we go?" Dylan murmured in her ear. Managing to nod, Danielle let him maneuver her upright and take a few shaky steps._

 _As they left the other couple behind, Danielle vaguely heard Alyssa say, "You're_ so _like Heathcliff, Tom!"_

_Had she read Wuthering Heights? Craning her head back to look at the pair of them and straining her ears, Danielle heard Tom say the name "Isabella" and wrap his arm around her shoulder._

_She only had time to gasp Tom's name before her legs buckled and everything went black._

* * *

Danielle shot up, sweating and shaking. Images from the nightmare—her engagement ring, the way Tom looked at Alyssa—danced behind her eyelids. She had been reading too much _Wuthering Heights_ , that was for sure. She had turned into Catherine, with Edgar by her side, forced to watch Isabella and Heathcliff. And it was her fault…all her fault…

 _Get yourself together,_ the logical part of her brain told her. _Alyssa and Dylan aren't even here. Besides, Tom would never consider becoming romantically involved with Alyssa…would he?_

A movement on the bed caught her attention. The Vita Servo had changed from its bright red to a more subdued yellow color. Danielle frowned, picking up the tiny glass ball. She wished she had brought her textbooks with her—maybe they would have said something about what it meant.

Closing her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ and trying to shake herself free of the nightmare _,_ Danielle tossed the book back into her suitcase along with Dumbledore's package and the Vita Servo. She made sure to magically lock it (the Ministry hopefully wouldn't bother her for the use of underage magic so far away) and guarded it with a Stinging Hex for the next person who touched it, taking a leaf out of Olive Hornby's book.

When she was satisfied with her handiwork, Danielle glanced down at her watch. It was nearly six o'clock and her stomach was growling. She hoped the food in Albania wouldn't be _too_ foreign—all her life, she'd only ever been to Britain and France.

Danielle headed downstairs, poking her head in all the rooms until she found the kitchen. She hadn't seen one other living soul since leaving her room. The Druri Inn didn't seem to be a very popular place. Tom, clever as he was, probably intended for it to be that way.

The kitchen was a surprisingly small, cramped area with room only for a sink and refrigerator. "Hello?" Danielle called, hoping there was at least one other person there.

"In here!" a muffled voice called back. Danielle saw there was a wooden door next to the refrigerator she hadn't previously noticed. Really, it seemed the rest of the inn didn't reflect the quality of the bedrooms.

She opened the door and found herself in a slightly larger dining room, with several people seated around a table. Danielle recognized Kaltrina at once, talking in rapid Albanian with an older man. Across the table from them sat Tom—Danielle's heart contracted—deep in conversation with a beautiful woman. She could be no older than nineteen or twenty, with waist-length red hair and emerald green eyes. Her posture indicated that she knew she was stunning, and knew it well. Danielle could tell that she was the kind of person that the boys at Hogwarts would give an arm and a leg just to stare at.

"Ah, good evening!" Kaltrina said loudly, standing up. Tom and the striking woman turned to look at Danielle.

"How did you enjoy your room?" the innkeeper asked.

"Fine, thank—"

"I shall introduce you now," Kaltrina said, cutting Danielle off. "Adelina, this is our newest guest, Ruth Davies. Ruth, this is Adelina, my granddaughter."

Danielle raised her eyebrow at Tom. _Ruth?_ He met her gaze coolly.

"Pleased to meet you," Adelina said haughtily, tossing her hair and giving Danielle a once-over. Her expression made it clear that she thought the younger girl was inferior.

"Ruth and Henry are cousins, from England. They're here to visit a friend of their parents," Kaltrina explained. "Henry speaks Albanian, but Ruth doesn't."

"Henry?" Danielle enquired of Tom. He narrowed his eyes slightly, silently warning her not to speak.

"And this is my husband and Adelina's grandfather, Brahim." Kaltrina smiled lovingly at the old man, who didn't look at her but was glaring at Tom. Danielle wondered why.

"Please, sit down," Kaltrina told her. Gingerly, Danielle sat down beside Tom.

"How are you feeling, Ruth?" he asked her, once again pulling off a flawless acting job. The concern in his eyes and voice was such that Danielle almost believed it herself.

"I'm fine, thank you, _Henry_ ," she said, emphasizing his name.

Tom turned back to continue his conversation with Adelina. Her English, of course, was more polished and faultless than Danielle's probably was.

Stabbing angrily at a piece of chicken with her fork, Danielle had to admit that she was jealous. How did girls like Adelina get away with having everything, and her with almost nothing, in a faraway time and place?

About halfway through the dinner, Kaltrina attempted to engage Danielle in conversation. "How long are you in Tirana for?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Danielle admitted. "Maybe a week?" She wasn't sure what story Tom had told them.

Luckily, he looked up at her words. "Perhaps two weeks, if we are lucky," he said. "Albania is a very lovely place."

Of course Kaltrina and Adelina fawned over that. They pressed Tom for questions, asking about Hogwarts and what the war was like in England. He answered every question easily, appearing to have no trouble making up answers. Danielle envied him.

However, she was surprised when he mentioned the fact that they had very little money left. "Mother and Father left us with only thirty Galleons. Do you know anyone that would benefit from a house-cleaning, perhaps, or someone to go into the city to purchase things?"

"I am not sure about you, but I might have a job for your cousin," Adelina said, fixing her cold gaze onto Danielle. "I work just down the street at a…bar, is that how you English say it? The pay is quite good."

Danielle blinked several times. "But I don't know Albanian," she said.

"That won't be an issue," Adelina said dismissively. "Are you sixteen yet?"

"Yes," Danielle lied. She noticed Tom clench his fist.

"Then you should come with me tomorrow, see how you like it," the girl said, her eyes boring into Danielle's. "Perhaps it is not the most glamorous job, but we have to learn how to make compromises in these times."

"Sure, I guess I can go," Danielle replied, confused. "I'm sure I can learn—"

" _No_." This came from Tom, who had previously been silent. Everyone turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?" Adelina asked. "It will be a good experience for Ruby."

"Ruth—"

"Yes, why not?" Kaltrina said. "She is sixteen, after all."

"No," Tom said again. "I will not have my… _cousin_ working there."

Danielle was annoyed. He was taking acting like a family too far. "I can do what I want, _Henry_."

Brahim cleared his throat and said something in Albanian to Kaltrina, who nodded and translated: "Leave the girl alone; she can make her own decisions. Our Adelina got her first start working there, after all."

"What's so bad about it?" Danielle added.

Anger was beginning to overcome Tom. "If you do not mind, I would like to speak to my cousin _alone_ ," he said, standing up.

Annoyed as well, Danielle followed him out of the dining room and through the kitchen to a small alcove next to the staircase. "What's your problem?" she immediately demanded. "I thought you wanted to be _inconspicuous_."

"Adelina works at a brothel," Tom nearly spat. "I will not have you acting as a—"

"Since when do you care?" Danielle retorted. " _Why_ do you care?"

His eyes flashed a dangerous red. She took a step backwards, feeling for her wand.

"Sorry, have I interrupted something?" a cheerful voice said from the top of the stairs. Startled, Danielle and Tom looked up to see a short dark-haired man descending the staircase. He carried a walking-stick in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. An utter stranger, but Danielle could have sworn there was something familiar about him…

"No, we were just discussing an important matter," Tom said curtly, composing himself quickly.

"Ah. Looked like you were about to argue. Anyway," the man said, stopping on the bottom step, "I'm Vincent. I'm from England as well."

"Hello," Danielle said confusedly, wondering at his intentions. Her head was still swimming from her and Tom's near-argument.

"Do you mind telling me where the dining room is?" Vincent asked. His dark eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them.

"It is just through the kitchen," Tom answered, sounding impatient. "Come, Ruth." He grabbed her wrist and literally pulled her up the stairs, leaving a stunned Vincent behind.

Once they'd arrived back in Tom's room, he immediately summoned all his belongings toward them. "Something is not right," he said in a hollow voice.

"Of course things aren't right!" Danielle exclaimed. "What _is_ right now, Tom? Name one thing."

He looked sideways at her. "You are not taking that job," he said bluntly.

"No, but I _would_ appreciate it if you let me make my own decisions once in a while, my dear cousin!" Danielle snapped.

She expected him to fight back, but he merely sighed. He turned away from her, his shoulders closed off.

Danielle took a hesitant step toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. All the fight went out of her. "Tom—" she began.

"Go, Clara. Leave." His tone was commanding, his sudden mood change startling even for someone who was used to it.

Danielle didn't argue, but first she moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek and turned his face toward her. She remembered her nightmare and the way Adelina had seemed almost to claim him. In a somewhat mad frame of mind, she learned forward and kissed him quickly.

"Goodnight, Tom," she said, hurriedly moving to the door in case she had angered him. The remembrance of the first time she said those words stirred up in her memory, but it didn't bring a smile to her face. He was looking after her, his eyes emotionless.

When she got back to her room, Danielle sat cross-legged on her bed and stared out the window, watching birds flutter to and fro from the many trees surrounding the inn. Her heart was beating an irregular rhythm, electricity spiking her veins. She felt as if she had been hit by a Jelly-Legs jinx, followed by overdosing on Butterbeer.

Falling in love at such a young age was impossible, everyone always said. There seemed to be a general consensus that being in love before age twenty was "puppy love", or infatuation. Danielle had always accepted that as fact.

But sitting here, with a horrible ache in her heart and her entire body shaking, she had to wonder. She wanted nothing more than to be back with Tom, wherever he would go. She wanted to learn everything about him— _everything_. And she knew, subconsciously, that nothing he could say or do would change her feelings.

That was bad, especially since he was _Tom Riddle_.

Danielle had tried to subdue her growing feelings for him for the most part. It seemed now that she couldn't control them any longer, however. After her dream earlier that afternoon and her raging jealousy of Adelina, Danielle knew she had to face it.

 _Would you give up everything for him?_ a voice in her mind whispered.

"Yes," Danielle said out loud, startling herself. "I would."

_Your family? Your friends? The lives of countless other people? The entire wizarding world? Because that's what would happen if you were to stay with him. You might even have to sacrifice your own life._

Danielle's heartbeat spiked even more as she realized she had her answer.

She knew what she had to do now.


	33. In Cold Blood

There was a terrible storm that night. Danielle lay in bed with her eyes shut and the pillow clutched tightly over her head, trying to block out the incessant thunder and lightning. The change in climate was too abrupt for her; going from snowstorms to thunderstorms in twelve hours was almost dizzying.

After a particularly loud thunderclap during which the entire building shook, Danielle stuck her head out from under the covers and grabbed her wand. " _Lumos_!" she hissed and the room was instantly ablaze with light.

As she contemplated whether to try going back to sleep or to wait out the storm, her still-hungry stomach growled. After Tom's outburst at dinner that night, she'd never gotten a chance to go back and finish her dinner.

By wandlight, Danielle got out of bed and pulled on her dressing-gown before tiptoeing out of her room and heading downstairs. There was absolutely no sound or movement aside from the now-distant rumbles of thunder and brief flashes of lightning upon the walls.

Once she had reached the kitchen, however, Danielle heard footsteps lightly padding across the floor. She raised her wand a little higher. "Hello?" she called quietly.

There was a shuffling noise and the man she had met earlier, Vincent, appeared with a piece of bread in one hand and a slightly guilty expression. "Oh, hello—it's Ruth, right? I was just getting a quick midnight snack."

His eyes darted all around the room as if searching for an escape route. A flicker of uneasiness stirred up inside Danielle. "I was just looking for one too," she replied, pushing the irrational feeling down. Honestly, just because she knew one murderous, on-the-brink-of-insanity psychopath didn't mean she had to be wary of _everyone._

"Nice little wizarding inn, isn't it?" Vincent continued, reaching for something in his pocket. "I just came to Tirana on a vacation—I had to get away from rainy Britain, you see." He laughed nervously. "Well, I won't keep you talking any longer, Clara. Young girls like you shouldn't be wandering around this late at night— _ah_!" He jumped back as the tip of Danielle's wand pressed into his throat.

"Why did you call me Clara?" she demanded. "My name is Ruth Davies."

"I—you remind me of someone called Clara," Vincent stuttered, but he was caught. In that instant, Danielle knew.

"You're Anguis," she said. "You're an Animagus."

It made so much sense: the reason why Tom had said the snake was surprisingly intelligent, how he had known to sneak out of rooms and mysteriously disappear, how he had seemed to understand everything they were saying…

"P—please don't hurt me!" Vincent gasped. "I'm on strict orders—I'm being _paid_ to do this!"

"By who?" Danielle asked, twisting her wand a little deeper.

Vincent gasped for air. "D—Dumbledore!" he finally wheezed. "He thought I would be of use…he said he wanted to keep an eye on you."

Danielle was so surprised she almost dropped her wand. _Dumbledore_ had done it…he had sent an Animagus (posing as a snake, of course) to spy on her and Tom…no wonder he hadn't seemed too bothered about them leaving. He knew exactly what she was doing. No doubt all those times Anguis had "mysteriously" disappeared had been Vincent sending reports to Dumbledore.

So how had he tricked Tom? If he was cunning enough to be able to pretend that he didn't understand what they were saying, how could he have made the simple mistake of calling "Ruth" by her "real" name?

"What have you told Dumbledore?" Danielle hissed, fully aware Vincent was reaching for his wand.

"Everything I saw," Vincent said. "I don't disobey Dumbledore."

Before Danielle could react, his wand was out and pointing directly at her face. "Which was quite a lot," he breathed. "It's too bad I already sent that letter."

There was a split second where they were frozen, and then Danielle jumped back as ropes appeared out of thin air and wrapped tightly around Vincent's body, binding his limbs so he couldn't escape. His wand clattered to the ground and Danielle instantly snatched it up.

"Why did Dumbledore send you?" Tom asked from somewhere behind her, stepping out of the shadows. His eyes weren't red, but he was staring down at Vincent with such hatred and abhorrence that they might as well have been. Danielle unconsciously took a step away from him.

Vincent was struggling against his bonds, staring in terror at Tom's wand. His face had turned pasty white. "I—he asked me to—to keep an eye on you two—please don't hurt me! I have a wife—I have a _son_! I'm Vincent Fletcher—I went to Hogwarts too!"

Tom's lip curled in disgust. "I show no mercy for spies," he said. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a bright flash of green light and Vincent collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide open and staring, his mouth still open in a plead for mercy.

Danielle tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She was frozen in shock.

A closed, hard expression settled on Tom's face. He lowered his wand and turned away from Danielle.

"Tom—you—you—" she choked out. The scene kept replaying in her mind's eye, unwanted, unbidden.

"It had to be done," he said curtly. "Perhaps you do not mind your idol Dumbledore tracking your every move, do you, Clara?"

"I wouldn't have killed him," Danielle whispered.

Tom muttered something under his breath and Vincent's body vanished. "Go back to your room," he said suddenly. "Kaltrina is coming."

"No," Danielle replied obstinately, raising her chin. "You can wait and tell her _exactly_ why—"

Her vision went black for a second, and she momentarily lost her balance. While she was blinded, she heard Tom saying something in a strange language. He must be talking to Kaltrina. However, when she regained her vision, she found that this wasn't the case. Tom was gone and she was standing alone in the hallway.

"Ruth! Why are you awake?" Kaltrina exclaimed, hurriedly pulling on a dressing-gown as she came down the stairs.

Danielle wasn't sure if she could speak, so she settled for mumbling something incoherent under her breath and trying to go back up the stairs. But the old woman blocked her path. "I heard speaking," she said, her accent even more garbled than usual with exhaustion. "Who else is here?"

"Nobody," Danielle said truthfully, but Kaltrina was stubborn. She pulled a wand out of her dressing-gown and illuminated it. "Sometimes guests arrive at night—oh! Adelina!"

Danielle turned to see a red-haired figure walking slowly down the hallway towards them. Adelina looked the opposite of how she had looked at dinner. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face looked haggard and sallow without makeup on, and she clutched a black cape around her body with long, bony hands.

In short, she looked terrible.

Kaltrina didn't seem fazed, however. She asked her granddaughter something in Albanian; Adelina's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. Danielle felt a slight wave of disgust: Adelina had probably spent the better part of the night with several men, and Kaltrina barely batted an eyelash. Perhaps the 1940's weren't so prudent after all.

As Kaltrina stopped aside to let Adelina pass, Danielle s queezed through the gap and hurried up to her room, ignoring the questions thrown at her. Once inside, Danielle collapsed onto her bed and finally unblocked her mind from the events of ten minutes beforehand.

Tom had made his first intentional killing. If Danielle's hazy memories of fourth-year History of Magic class were correct, then this was premature: in the "original" timeline, he wasn't supposed to commit his first murder until the summer of 1943, in which he would kill his father and his grandparents. Vincent Fletcher had died needlessly.

The worst thing, though, wasn't that Tom had murdered; it was that he had been completely under control the entire time. He couldn't blame Vincent's death on _Vetus Periculosus_ whatsoever. As he had spat out the Unforgivable Curse, his eyes hadn't held a trace of red in them. That had been what scared Danielle the most. If Tom could murder in cold blood, then what was next? _Who_ was next?

* * *

He didn't come back the next day.

Danielle paced agitatedly up and down the length of her room for hours on end, trying to get rid of her nervous energy. Her mind was working overtime, thinking up horrible scenarios in which Tom murdered the entire city. It was just as dangerous for him here in Albania as it was in England—what with the war being even closer, perhaps even more.

Kaltrina and Adelina both asked her where Tom had gone. Danielle told them that he had gone to see the family "friend" they were supposedly visiting. That would satisfy them until he came back… _if_ he came back.

The first day passed, and then the second day. Danielle hadn't gone outside since he'd left. On the third day, she caught a horrible cold (presumably all the traveling had gotten to her) and spent that and the next day bedridden. On the fifth day, she managed to go outside on a short walk, though admittedly with a tissue pressed to her nose the entire time. Kaltrina and Adelina knew something was wrong, especially with the disappearances of both Tom and Vincent, but Danielle supposed that they were used to their fair share of odd travelers and knew better than to ask.

On the sixth day—she'd been in Albania for a week—Danielle was curled up on a comfortable bench in the inn's back garden, trying to learn Albanian. Kaltrina had given her a beginner's guide to the language and Danielle was actually quite pleased with the progress she had made. She had been wary at first, since she was dreadful at French, but Albanian came more naturally for some reason.

She was just learning how to say "I would like a Chocolate Frog, please" when she heard a familiar cry and an owl came swooping down in front of her.

"Alistair!" Danielle exclaimed in delight. She stroked the screech owl happily. "I can't believe it only took you a week to get here."

Alistair hooted in reply and ruffled his feathers, looking extremely pleased with himself. He seemed none the worse for his long trip. Spotting a mouse scurrying on the ground, he flapped his wings excitedly and dove down onto it.

Trying to ignore the slightly nauseating crunch of bones several feet away, Danielle opened Dumbledore's reply, her hands shaking. Did he know about Vincent yet? Would he try and come to find her?

 _Miss Ashford,_ (the letter read)

_You will be relieved to hear that the Daily Prophet is mistaken and Mr Potter is not, in fact, dead—he is Petrified. However, he will most likely not be conscious for quite a long period of time and requires constant care._

_Hogwarts is still closed. Most of the professors have now left as well, except for myself, the Headmaster and Professor Merrythought. Several Ministry officials have been in to investigate and they believe that a basilisk is responsible for the murder of Miss Pratt. I am inclined to agree with them; however, we have found no evidence of any such creature yet._

_On a more personal note, your disappearance has caused quite a stir among the teachers and pupils. After Mr Black and the MacDougal twins' reappearance, there was hope that and Mr Riddle would soon show up as well. I, however, knew better. I can only trust that you are prepared for what lies ahead of you. Albania is a very dangerous place, for wizards as well as Muggles. Just keep the Vito Servo and the package I gave you close at hand, Miss Ashford. Remember: the package will only open when things have returned to their normal state._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. Look for a hollow tree._

A staggering, intense wave of relief rushed through Danielle as soon as she read the first sentence. Charlus Potter wasn't dead, after all. Harry Potter would still be born. She felt like jumping up and dancing.

So Dumbledore was telling her that he knew she had gone to Albania. Danielle wasn't surprised: even if Vincent hadn't been secretly corresponding with him, Dumbledore would still probably know where they had gone. Sooner or later, he would realize Vincent was dead. What would Dumbledore do then?

And what did he mean by "look for a hollow tree"? Was the diadem supposedly hidden in one? There had to be millions of hollow trees scattered around Albania—how was she to be expected to find the right one?

It seemed that every time a question was answered, two more popped up in its place. Danielle sighed and turned the letter over, reaching for a quill. She deliberated for a moment before writing: _Professor, look in the second-floor girls' bathroom where Myrtle was murdered. Pay special attention to the row of sinks. –C.A._

There. She had just given away the location of the Chamber of Secrets. This was probably going to be extremely destructive to the timeline, but what wasn't anymore?

"Come here, Alistair," Danielle called to her owl, who had just finished devouring the mouse. "I'm sorry I'm giving you another job so soon, but I promise once you get back you can have a nice long rest."

The owl screeched and took the letter in his claws again, flying away at once. Danielle slumped down in her chair, trying to ignore her pounding headache. Couldn't there be a day where she didn't have to worry about anything at all? When was _her_ rest coming?

A sudden flapping of wings beside her made her jump. She turned to see an owl alighting on the arm of her chair, but this time it wasn't Alistair. It was an enormous eagle owl with a package tied to its leg. Danielle frowned. Who would be sending her something?

Cautiously, she untied the package and the owl flew away at once, not even taking the treat Danielle offered it. Clearly the sender didn't want a reply.

The package was elegantly wrapped in white paper. Danielle carefully opened it up, expecting there to be some sort of curse placed on the interior. But when she picked up the object inside all thoughts of curses left her.

It was a beautiful gold box, wrapped in velvet and elegantly crafted. Thin, spidery writing covered the top, appearing to spell something out in a strange language. Danielle turned the box over and over in her hands, trying to figure out who would send this to her. Dumbledore, maybe? But then why wouldn't he have given it to Alistair along with his letter?

A rattling noise came from inside the box. Danielle quickly put it down, but when the rattling continued she picked it back up and examined it more closely. Was there something alive in there?

Her curiosity awoken, she grabbed her wand with one hand and slowly opened the top with another.

At first, she was disappointed—there appeared to be nothing inside. But a strange gleam caught her attention and she noticed there was a mirror placed on the bottom.

How could a mirror rattle? Danielle tilted the box so she could see her reflection—and gasped out loud, dropping it onto the ground and falling out of her chair. For she hadn't seen herself reflected in it—she had seen Tom.

Danielle whirled around to see if he was behind her, but there was no one in sight. When her heart had started again, she ventured to pick the box back up and stare into its contents once more.

He was still there, his eyes locked onto hers. She stared at him hungrily, taking in every aspect of his appearance, from his jet black hair to his dark blue eyes to his pale skin…

As her eyes roved over him, she began to wonder. What on earth was this? Who had sent it to her? Could there be some type of Dark Magic involved?

She was so concentrated on it that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. "We call it _Kuti e dëshirës_ ," Kaltrina said, causing Danielle to shut the box quickly. "The Box of Desire."

"I don't understand," Danielle whispered.

"The English people have a similar object," the old woman explained, her eyes fixed on the box. "It is a mirror that shows you—how do you say it?—your heart's desire."

_No._

"There is an old legend that the most famous wizard in history, Merlin, invented three mirrors that showed you what you wanted the most. One of the mirrors broke, though, and there are pieces of it scattered all over Europe. Sometimes pieces are found and sold for a very high price," Kaltrina said, nodding to herself. "That is surely one of them."

"What—what happened to the other two?"

"Nobody knows exactly where they are. One is thought to be in America; the other, in Britain." Danielle could tell the woman wanted to see the mirror badly. Gingerly, she held the box out to her.

Kaltrina snatched it up right away. She stared into the box for so long Danielle wondered if she was going to faint. Then tears started pouring down her face and she threw the box back at Danielle, who caught it in surprise.

"Er…do you want me to get your husband?" she asked awkwardly, averting her eyes from Kaltrina's tears. But the old lady shook her head.

"I do not want Brahim," she said. "I want Ilir."

"Who?"

"Ilir. I was in love with him," Kaltrina whispered. "He was a very dangerous man. He was interested in Dark Magic and wanted to become a Dark wizard himself."

Danielle winced.

"But Brahim loved me too…Brahim was good, kind. I chose the safe path, Ruth. I chose the easy path. Ilir left when I married Brahim. I never saw him again. Every day I wish…I wish…"

It wasn't very hard to guess who Kaltrina had seen in the mirror. "I'm sorry," Danielle said uncomfortably.

"Do not make the same mistake I did, Ruth. Follow what your heart wants, not what your mind wants. Even if it will get you killed," Kaltrina whispered. "I would have died for Ilir. I would still die for Ilir."

Danielle glanced down again at the mirror. Even though she knew who she would see there, her heart still skipped a beat.

"Who sent it to you?" Kaltrina asked when she had regained composure, wiping her eyes with a tissue she had conjured out of thin air.

"I don't know," Danielle replied. "I don't know anyone who would _want_ to send me this."

Kaltrina sighed and said a phrase in Albanian—not one Danielle understood, but one she had heard before. She recognized those words; they had been what Tom said just before he disappeared. "What did you say, Kaltrina?" she asked abruptly. "What does it mean?"

" _Më fal?_ " Kaltrina repeated. "It means _I am sorry_."


	34. Non Omnis Moriar

Two months.

It had been two months since she had last seen him.

Her first assumption (which had proved to be extremely naïve) was that Tom would eventually come back. He couldn't just leave her stranded in a foreign country with next to no money and no idea what to do.

But he was Lord Voldemort. He could do exactly that, and more.

Danielle had forgotten that little detail.

For the first while, every time a new guest had arrived at the inn or the sound of unfamiliar footsteps had come up the stairs, she would feel a small spark of hope. But she was to be disappointed every time. After the first month, she finally had to face the fact that Tom wasn't likely to ever come back. He had left for good.

Danielle told Kaltrina that they were still corresponding, that their family friend had fallen very ill and Tom didn't want her to become sick too. But she knew she hadn't been convincing enough and that Kaltrina didn't believe her.

Several days after she had recovered from her cold, Danielle had completely run out of money. She was planning to Floo back to London and return to the orphanage, but as she was packing her bags Kaltrina had stopped her. Seeing that she really had nowhere else to go, the old woman had made her an offer: there was a wizarding café several miles away in Tirana that was always looking for new workers. If Danielle worked there, she would earn enough money to be able to stay at the inn, plus she would get to keep one-third of her earnings. Not wanting to go back to Britain in the least, Danielle had eagerly accepted. It was an hour's walk there and back every day, but she was glad for the chance to relax and clear her head.

Many times, Danielle wondered why she didn't simply go back to England. She could easily Floo back to the Leaky Cauldron and head to Vauxhall Orphanage, biding her time until Hogwarts reopened; or write to Dumbledore and see if he could help. But something stopped her every time. Perhaps it was the fear of facing Alphard, Alyssa and Dylan's wrath—or, somewhere deep down inside her, she still believed Tom would return.

Whatever the reason, she stayed. It was probably the stupidest and most illogical thing to do in her situation, but she did it anyway,

Working as a barista wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but it wasn't the worst, and she was earning money. It helped keep her mind off of everything, and Danielle was sure that if she hadn't been working, she would be moping about the inn or staring into the so-called "Box of Desire" (which, in all honestly, she already did more than she cared to admit).

So, for the past two months, Danielle's life had settled into an uneventful, monotonous routine, but one she found she didn't mind: wake up, eat breakfast, walk to the café, work, walk home, eat dinner, read, and go to bed. Sometimes on the weekends Kaltrina brought her into Tirana to practice Albanian, but seeing as how the war made it almost impossible to walk around the city safely, nothing had happened beyond that.

Though she knew she couldn't stay in Albania forever, she would have been relatively content except for one constant, pressing problem: _Dumbledore._ After her last letter, Danielle had never heard back from him. She alternated between worrying that his silence meant something was terribly wrong, or that no news was good news. Wasn't she supposed to stay inconspicuous, socializing as little as possible? That was what he had told her at the beginning of the year.

But he was Dumbledore, she supposed. Dumbledore always had his reasons. Whatever the case, his package still wouldn't open, so she supposed she was safe for the time being.

However, her somewhat comfortable new life didn't last long. In hindsight, she thought of her time in Albania comparable to teetering on the edge of a mountain—things would either go one way or the other. She couldn't stay suspended in her limbo-like state forever.

When her story did finally start again, it was a beautiful spring evening and the café was just about to close. Danielle was just serving a cup of coffee to her last customer, a middle-aged wizard. As she handed him his cup, she caught sight of the newspaper he was reading. The date read April fifteenth.

It was her sixteenth birthday.

Blinking slightly in shock, and concentrating on not dropping the steaming liquid, Danielle managed to pass the cup over safely and immediately hurried behind the counter to her fellow barista, a witch her age named Marigona. "Guess what?" she asked in Albanian, as they took off their aprons. "I just realized today is my birthday."

"Well, happy birthday, then!" her friend replied. "Do you want a present? I think I have some extra coffee…"

"No, no more coffee! I wonder why we have so much of that stuff when it's supposed to be rationed," Danielle exclaimed in English for more emphasis. As always, their conversation switched back and forth between the two languages. "I never want to see another cup of that stuff again!"

"Looks like you'll have to wait a little bit longer," Marigona said seriously as they left the shop. "How come you didn't know it was your birthday?"

Danielle hesitated before answering. Like Kaltrina, Adelina and Brahim, Marigona believed that she was Ruth Davies, an English girl who was just visiting Albania. "I…don't really keep track of my birthdays," Danielle confessed. "Besides, I've been so busy that I haven't even had time to _look_ at a newspaper." This wasn't entirely true—she _didn't_ look at newspapers, but it was in fear of what she would find written inside, rather than her hectic schedule.

The two girls walked back in companiable silence, as usual. Marigona lived several blocks from the inn and often came to pick Danielle up in the mornings.

They had just turned onto Danielle's street when Marigona gasped. "Who is _that_?" she asked, pointing in the direction of the Druri Inn.

Danielle followed her gaze just in time to see a tall figure enter the building. "Er, probably a new guest?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"I thought it was a ghost, they were so pale," Marigona murmured, staring transfixed at the door. "But it can't be…I thought I saw a wand."

Danielle laughed at her friend's overactive imagination. Marigona read far too many mystery novels. "Well, if I get attacked by a ghost who can carry a wand, I'll let you know," she replied.

They bid goodbye at the entrance to the inn and Danielle headed inside. There was no sign of Marigona's mystery apparition anyway. Laughing slightly to herself, Danielle was about to go up the stairs when a figure seemingly materialized from nowhere right in front of her.

"I see you are still here, Clara," said an achingly familiar voice, its tone slightly mocking. "Were you hoping that I would come back?"

Danielle was so surprised she let go of the banister and started to fall, but before she could cry out two arms grabbed her. "Still as clumsy, are we?" that voice—the one she had been dreaming about for the past sixty days—said, with what she imagined was a coolly amused smirk.

Danielle could not speak; she could only collapse against his chest and try to slow her racing heart as Tom supported her all the way to her room. Her mind was on overdrive—he was all she could take in. _Tom, Tom, Tom,_ her thoughts screamed. _Why are you here now? What are you going to do to me?_

She didn't move an inch when he sat them both down on the bed, refusing to untangle her limbs from his, scared that if she let go he would disappear. She barely noticed that he made no effort at all to push her away.

When she managed to pull herself together somewhat, she finally summoned up the courage to look at his face.

It was not the same Tom she often stared at in the mirror. They were the same person, certainly, but not the same Tom. The one she knew had been thin, but not so thin that she could see the bones in his hands and the skin pulled tightly across his cheekbones. The Tom she knew didn't have such a dead hollowness to his eyes. The only thing that seemed to stay the same was the hint of crimson in his blue eyes—only now it was more than a hint. The red seemed to be mixed into the irises for good.

He was most definitely Tom Riddle, but he had changed…for the worse. It wasn't that he was less handsome—in fact, he was more so—but now there was an even more dangerous attractiveness to him. He was like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to strike at any moment. Danielle, who normally didn't let herself be intimidated by his appearance, was terrified.

"Have you regained speech yet, Clara?" Tom asked. "I assure you that I have not cursed you."

"Why do you always come back?" Danielle managed to choke out. She was too busy holding her breath, awaiting his response, to notice his eyes widen slightly.

But he didn't respond. The question hung, almost palpably, in the air between them.

"Don't do this to me, Tom," Danielle finally said when the silence grew unbearable. "Either stay or leave. Just don't keep me wondering if I'll ever see you again."

It sounded ridiculous and melodramatic and cheesy, but it was the truth. She felt as if she were in a dream and would wake up at any moment.

"I came back because it would be foolish to continue looking for the diadem any longer," Tom said, avoiding her second statement. "I believed I knew the exact location, but I turned out to be…"

"Wrong?" she offered.

Annoyance flickered through his eyes. "It turned out to be impossible to track down," he said.

 _I could have told you that from the start, but you wouldn't have listened to me, would you?_ "So…what are you going to do?" Danielle asked.

"I have several other ideas," he replied, but she didn't stop to think about what that meant. He was here and that was all that mattered. She was in too deep to ever go back.

Almost unconsciously, Danielle leaned forward, and was surprised when Tom met her halfway, pressing his now-cold lips against hers. It was their first real, mutual kiss.

Well, if she was dreaming, she might as well make it as pleasant as possible. Her heart was pounding erratically and heat was rushing through her veins, leaving her breathless and dizzy. It was like her dream on New Year's Eve so long ago, only this time it was actually happening. Her hands were on his shoulders, and Tom's hands were pulling her hair away from her face so she could gently run his fingers across her cheek. When they drew back for air the only sounds in the room were Danielle's pounding heart and her gasping.

Somehow, her mind still hadn't slowed down through all of this. Perhaps it was just hormones, the heat of the moment, or teenage infatuation, but as Danielle stared into the face of the person she knew she wanted more than anything else in the world, she whispered, "I love you."

Tom stared at her. For once, shock and astonishment were written plainly on his face.

It had been a grave mistake, she knew, but what _wasn't_ a mistake anymore? One part of her was horrified at finally revealing this secret out loud, but the other part was cheering. There had never been a verbal acknowledgement of their feelings, only subtle hints and clues. Danielle owed Tom the truth—or at least this much of it.

When he finally did speak, his words were swift and harsh. "You have no idea what you are saying." Almost in disgust, he pulled himself away from her and stood up. Danielle watched him in confusion.

He strode over to her bedside table and picked up the Box of Desire. Almost carelessly, he opened the lid and stared down into its contents. "What you see in it is the thing you… _covet_ the very most. Tell me, Clara, what do you want more than anything else in the world?"

Danielle swallowed nervously. "You…you mean you know about that box?"

"Of course," Tom replied. He still hadn't turned back to face her. "I was the one who sent it to you."

" _You_?" she gasped. " _You_ sent it to me? But how did you pay for it?"

"I did not pay for it."

"So you stole it? Tom, why did—"

A quick, humourless laugh escaped him. "You just confessed your… _love_ for me, and now you are upset because I stole that box? You are utterly ridiculous, Clara."

His words came like a slap in the face. Danielle didn't know what to do or say. She looked away from his as he turned back around.

"What you see in that mirror is what you _truly_ love," Tom said, his voice thick with anger. "Is it fame? Wealth? Power? You are in love with whatever you see in there, not with me."

"But I—" Danielle began.

He didn't let her finish. "Do you think that I am a prince in disguise who will suddenly be cured, confess my _love_ —" he said it as if it was a filthy word, "—for you and we will live happily ever after? Do you think that I am just misunderstood, that if I had the proper care I would be _normal_? Do you think that I am polite, charming, handsome Tom Riddle? If so, Clara—"

His eyes were flickering so fast between blue and red Danielle wasn't sure whose control he was under. She spluttered for a moment before bursting out with, "You know what I see in that mirror, Tom? I see you. Not fame, not wealth, not power, not my family, _you_."

He glared at her for another moment before tossing the box back onto the table and striding out the door. It slammed smartly shut behind him.

 _Well,_ she could hear Dylan's voice in her ear, _That was a mistake._

* * *

After she had come to terms with what had just happened, Danielle grabbed her wand and hurried out of the room, heart in her throat. Tom being taken over by the curse alone in the forest was one thing, but Tom being taken over by the curse in a city full of innocent people was another.

She had hardly gotten down the stairs when Kaltrina bustled out of the drawing-room with a huge smile on her face. "Ruth, you have a visitor!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Danielle asked, momentarily confused. She was planning to just hurry on by the old woman, but skidded to a halt when she saw who was standing behind her.

_Dumbledore._

Of course, this all had to happen on her birthday.

Absolutely bloody _perfect._

"Why, hello, Ruth," the Transfiguration professor said, welcoming as always. "I was just telling Kaltrina that since Hogwarts has reopened, it is more than safe for you to return back to school."

"Reopened?" Danielle asked slowly. She was only half listening; her other half was still frantically thinking of places as to where Tom might go. "What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you read the newspaper lately, Ruth?" Kaltrina scolded. "It was on the very front page."

"No—I—I only glanced at it," Danielle stuttered. She was beginning to feel dizzy. Glancing helplessly up at Dumbledore, she could tell he understood. With a slight inclination of his head, he motioned for Danielle to go outside.

"If you don't mind, I have much to explain to Miss Davies," he said gently to Kaltrina. "She will be leaving the inn tonight, at any rate."

The innkeeper nodded and went back into the drawing-room, promising to make a large goodbye supper for dinner that night.

Moving in a stupor-like state, Danielle made her way outside and waited for Dumbledore. When he had followed her outside, she immediately began firing questions at him. "Sir, why are you here? Do you know where Tom is? How did Hogwarts reopen?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Would you like me to answer those questions in order, Miss Ashford? Or would you like me to start from the beginning?"

"The beginning, please," Danielle said, She took some sense of relief from the fact that he seemed to be in a good mood.

"Well," the auburn-haired professor began, beginning to stroll along the walkway, "As soon as I received your letter, I immediately took it upon myself to go and investigate the second-floor bathroom. After a brief search, I managed to discover the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets—one must use Parseltongue to open it. Luckily I have a book on the language." He paused to allow Danielle to catch up to him. "I had suspected there was a basilisk all along, and the Chamber only confirmed that. I managed to lure it back into the Chamber and lock it up tightly. It will not be opened again until the next Parseltongue arrives at Hogwarts—and hopefully that will not be for a long time."

"So if you solved that problem so quickly, then why did it take two months for the school to reopen?"

"Professor Dippet wanted to perform exhaustive tests on every single square inch of the castle to make sure it truly was safe. I didn't tell him about the basilisk, only that I was sure the school was no longer under threat."

He glanced at Danielle, who nodded. Only Dumbledore could single-handedly manage to defeat a basilisk.

"Meanwhile, after Vincent Fletcher's death, I sent several others to keep an eye on you and Mr Riddle. I knew you were safe; that is why I didn't bother writing letters or keeping contact with you. I felt you deserved a little bit of a break, at least until Hogwarts reopened; with Mr Riddle gone and you staying at a safe place, there wasn't much trouble you could get into. However, I made sure that you were relatively secure, just in case."

So she had been spied on for the past two months? How on earth could she not have noticed? But even as she thought of the questions, Danielle realized how easy it would be for Dumbledore to keep a close watch on her: guests at the inn, perhaps, or a regular customer at the café…

"So," Dumbledore continued, "With knowing you were protected, I concentrated my attentions on Mr Riddle. He was extremely volatile; it was lucky he stayed out of civilization for the most part."

It was like Tom was an animal. Danielle shivered as she realized that that was exactly what he could be compared to.

"Searching for the diadem was his main concern, of course; however, he did wander into several towns and begin to experiment with extremely Dark Magic." Dumbledore's face turned grave. "He has not killed anyone other than Mr Fletcher as of yet, though I have a strong suspicion that he has started experimentation with the Cruciatus and Imperius curses."

Danielle had to lean against a fencepost to steady herself. "Is this…only when he's under his curse?" she asked.

"As far as I know, yes. He has kept to himself when he is most dangerous, but the curse is taking over more and more now. That is odd, because in the research I have been doing on Vetus Periculosus, victims are not supposed to start showing such extremities for another two or three years. In fact, they are supposed to be fairly normal until they are in their late teens. Perhaps that is how Mr Riddle's ancestors managed to survive long enough to produce children."

"So what's the matter with Tom?" Danielle asked. "Why is he starting to deteriorate so early?"

"That, Miss Ashford, I do not know. Another interesting piece of information I have uncovered, however, is that he is also starting to do some research on Horcruxes."

 _Horcruxes_ …well, that made sense. If the Hogwarts professors of the future were correct, in just a few short years, Tom would create his first Horcrux. Voldemort had created seven, hadn't he? A cup…a locket…a ring…the snake Nagini…Harry Potter (though admittedly, that hadn't been intentional)…Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem (well, at least he'd eventually find it)…and…a _diary._

Danielle stopped walking as the terrible truth crashed onto her. The diary. Tom Riddle's first Horcrux. The one Harry Potter had destroyed in his second year… _she had given it to him._

No. It couldn't be. That made no sense. If she was never there in the original timeline, how did he come across it?

"Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked mildly, turning around the look at her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine—I'm fine," Danielle mumbled, beginning to walk again but feeling shaky. No…that was impossible…there had to be another explanation…

They walked in silence for several more minutes before she inquired, "Where exactly are we going, sir?"

"To get Mr Riddle, of course," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I have cast a spell around the area prohibiting him from leaving around a two-mile radius." He paused. "He will come back anyway. It would be preferable if we go to meet him, however. The rapid advancement of the curse combined with the weakening qualities of Dark Magic is draining him. I doubt he will even make it back to the inn."

Danielle's blood ran cold. "What are you saying, sir? Is he dying?"

"He could be," Dumbledore said. "If given the right treatment soon, he will recover—at least until the next bout of the curse."

"Can I ask you one last question, Professor?" Danielle asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "We are almost there, Miss Ashford, so be swift."

"Why does he always come back? When we were at the orphanage, during the air-raids, he would go back into the building and look for me if I didn't come outside. When we were in Scotland, we…had an argument, and he stalked out, but returned the next day. And now…he says it's just because he can't find the diadem, but I don't think he's telling the whole truth." Danielle watched Dumbledore's expression carefully as he answered.

"Why, Miss Ashford, I would have thought you knew the answer to that yourself." He sounded almost surprised. "There is only one explanation."

"What?"

"You think you care for, even love—" at this Danielle paled—"Mr Riddle more than he ever could for you. In almost certainty, I can say that in fact Mr Riddle cares a great deal for you. Why else would he, a once completely solitary person, allow you to come to Albania with him? Why would he send you a very old and very expensive gift (albeit it being stolen)? Why else would he come back all those times you said he left?" Dumbledore's tone was pleasant, but there was a hint of reproach to it.

Danielle didn't understand. "You mean you heard the conversation we had up in my room?"

"No—if you do recall, Miss Ashford, I am quite gifted in Legilimency, if I do say so myself. I could not read all his thoughts, but the ones I _could_ read had to do with you."

"And…he cares for me?"

"As much as he can for anyone, I think."

Danielle recalled Tom's words shortly before: _Do you think_ _that I am a prince in disguise who will suddenly be cured, confess my love for you and we will live happily ever after? Do you think that I am just misunderstood, that if I had the proper care I would be normal? Do you think that I am polite, charming, handsome Tom Riddle?_

Just because he cared for her more than she thought he did didn't mean this was going to be a fairytale. They wouldn't suddenly find the diadem and cure him. He wouldn't suddenly become a better person. Him caring for her didn't mean anything.

Did it?

Lost in her thoughts, Danielle barely noticed when Dumbledore stopped her. He pointed at a small grove of trees several hundred feet away. "He is unconscious. Tread very quietly and try not to wake him up."

Heart in her throat, Danielle tiptoed over to where Dumbledore had pointed. She was confused to see no one there.

"He has cast a Disillusionment Charm," Dumbledore explained. He muttered something under his breath and all of a sudden a sprawled figure appeared on the grass.

"Tom," Danielle whispered. She fell to her knees beside him and brushed grass away from his deathly pale face. He had never looked this bad—not in the Chamber of Secrets, not in the hospital wing, nothing. His breathing was shallow and his pulse erratic and faint. If she hadn't known otherwise, she would have guessed he was already dead.

"Let us get him back to the inn," Dumbledore said, kneeling down beside Danielle. "He doesn't have much time left."

In an extremely odd gesture, he gently lifted Tom up into his arms. Danielle wondered how utterly bizarre this would seem to witches and wizards of the future—Albus Dumbledore cradling Lord Voldemort's limp body as if he were a dear son. _But he's not Voldemort yet,_ she reminded herself. He was nearly there, but not yet.

"Take my arm, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore instructed. Obediently, Danielle gripped his outstretched arm and closed her eyes—bracing herself for the painful sensation of Apparition.

She was more prepared for it this time than the last. After the nauseous spinning and squeezing sensation had stopped, she managed to open her eyes straightaway and let go of Dumbledore's arm.

Moving with a purposeful, rapid stride, he walked into the inn, Danielle jogging along behind him.

Luckily (or perhaps it was deliberate on Dumbledore's part) no one was around in the hallway or on the staircase. Dumbledore carried Tom up into Danielle's room and she shut the door tightly behind them.

"Can I help, Professor?" she asked, moving cautiously around to stand at the bedside. "Administer potions, or something?"

"I don't have potions with me, I am afraid," Dumbledore said, examining Tom's ashen face closely. "But I think I know of some healing spells that will work just as well."

Danielle sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed and took Tom's hand in hers, marvelling at how cold it felt. She remembered when his skin had used to be so warm.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had pointed his wand at Tom and was reciting spells in a strange language. They sounded like nothing Danielle had ever heard before. Slowly, very slowly, his face began to regain color. His pulse sped up and his breathing became louder.

"It's working, Professor!" Danielle whispered as loud as she dared.

Tom's eyelids flickered. His hand tightened in hers and she was struck with a sudden urge to run away, now that she knew he was all right. Their last conversation hadn't exactly been pleasant.

But she didn't have time to make any sort of decision: before she could move, Tom's eyes opened and he stared blankly into her face for a moment before doubling up in a coughing fit. Danielle quickly let go of his hand. There was just enough time for Dumbledore to conjure a bucket out of thin air before he began violently coughing up blood.

"Sir, I thought you said he would be better!" Danielle accused, watching Tom collapse back onto the bed. He wasn't as dangerously pale as before but he still looked slightly ashen.

"This is the curse, Miss Ashford, not my healing skills," Dumbledore said patiently as they watched Tom valiantly try to refrain from coughing again. "I cannot do anything about this."

It was almost painful to watch. Tom was conscious but obviously wasn't aware of anything happening around him. His blank, dead eyes held no recognition of either Danielle or Dumbledore.

"Will he be like this forever?" Danielle asked worriedly.

"No, he just needs constant care and attention until he manages to recover," the Transfiguration professor replied. "Hopefully, if he is kept in a relaxed state for long enough, the effects of the curse might not be as drastic. He might even go back to Hogwarts his old self, shall we say."

 _At least until he's twenty,_ Danielle thought. _Either that, or until he becomes Voldemort. One or the other._

There was a pleasant tinkling sound coming from inside Dumbledore's pocket. He pulled out a gold watch, humming to himself. "Ah, is it dinnertime already?" he exclaimed. "I do believe Kaltrina has prepared a going-away meal for you. I will stay here with Mr Riddle if you would like to go eat, Miss Ashford."

Danielle didn't want to leave, but seeing as how Tom had fallen unconscious again and she really _was_ hungry, she nodded and headed downstairs.

* * *

It was a good meal, but she barely tasted any of it. Her thoughts were focused completely on Tom and Dumbledore. Kaltrina was asking her questions and becoming concerned when she didn't answer right away, while Brahim was eating silently and scowling at his food. Adelina wasn't there, and for that Danielle was grateful. The two girls had never gotten along particularly well.

As soon as she was finished supper, she bid Kaltrina a fond farewell and went back upstairs, promising to leave the inn before dark.

Tom didn't appear to have changed much in the past hour; he was still lying as motionless as death on the bed. Dumbledore was sitting next to him, monitoring his condition carefully. "He woke up several minutes ago," the professor said as Danielle came in. "I do not think he recognized me, however."

Danielle took her seat on the edge of the bed and smoothed some of Tom's hair away from his face. Though the rest of his body was cold, his face had now turned flushed and his forehead was burning hot. She wondered if he had a fever.

"Do you mind if I step out for a moment, Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked after a while, standing up. "Mr Riddle will probably appreciate your company more than he will mine."

Danielle couldn't help but laugh. "Sure," she said, not taking her eyes off of Tom. She barely noticed Dumbledore leave.

A few minutes later, Tom began to stir. Nervously, Danielle looked over at the bucket beside her, wondering if he would begin coughing again. But aside from his ragged breathing, he didn't sound as horrible.

When his eyes opened, they immediately fixed on her. Danielle tried to pull away, but he held on to her hand with surprising strength. "Why are you here?" he asked haltingly.

"This is my room, in case you haven't noticed," she replied, voice shaking. "If anything, I should be asking you why _you're_ here."

His eyes focused more clearly and a small frown crossed his forehead. "I do not remember."

"Guess," she said wryly.

His frown grew deeper. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not physically," she admitted.

He stared at her, questions in his eyes. But before he could speak there was a soft knock on the door. "Miss Ashford?" Dumbledore asked. "May I speak to you, please?"

"One second," Danielle called. She turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack when she saw him already standing up, wand clutched in his hand. A murderous expression had crossed his face.

"What is Dumbledore doing here?" he demanded.

"Er—no idea," Danielle said lamely, avoiding his gaze.

Tom's eyes narrowed in anger. "Clara—" he began, but was overtaken by a coughing fit. Danielle could only watch in horror as he bent double, gasping for air. When he took his hands away from his mouth they were red.

"I'll just go talk to him," Danielle said, with a hint of panic to her voice. "He can help you—"

"I do not want his help," Tom snarled, all traces of pretence gone.

Danielle began to move towards the door. "I'll be back in a moment, Tom. I promise."

"Stay here, Clara," he hissed, but she had already opened the door. Not wanting to look at his face (which was most likely livid) she looked up expectantly at Dumbledore, who was smiling kindly.

"Forgive me, Miss Ashford," he said as he began to walk downstairs. "There are important matters I must discuss with you before it is too late."

"What?" Danielle asked stupidly, getting more puzzled by the second. Dumbledore led her into the drawing-room, where he closed the curtains with a wave of his wand.

"Have a seat," he offered, gesturing to the chair behind the mahogany desk. Somewhat hesitantly, Danielle obliged. She was anxious to get back to Tom before he blasted himself out of the room or something.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore spoke. "Do you remember the package I sent you before you left Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Danielle said. Dumbledore smiled and pointed his wand at something in the far corner, where a lumpy brown package came flying towards Danielle.

When she had caught it, he observed her for a second over the tip of his glasses. "Then I must assume you have read the letter, which states that the package will not open until things are back to normal."

"Are they, sir?" Danielle asked, who could think of no other explanation for this.

Wordlessly, the professor nodded, still the same pleasant smile on his face. "I sent you the package in case I could not be there when you opened it in person, but it looks like luck is on our side today."

"Sir, can you please just tell me what is going on?" she begged.

"Certainly. In just a few minutes, I will be taking Mr Riddle back to Hogwarts, where he will no doubt be treated with the utmost care by Madam Cutteridge."

"And me?"

"You will be returning home, Miss Bailey."


	35. Back to the Future

_London, England_

Alphard Black paced agitatedly up and down the long, narrow hallways of Grimmauld Place. He could sometimes be heard muttering to himself; other times he simply stared at the floor with an expression that could cut steel. Clutched in his hand was a copy of the _Daily Prophet._ The headline announced: _Hogwarts Reopens; Headmaster Confirms School " Is No Longer Under Threat"._

"For Merlin's _sake_ , Alphard, what are you doing?" Irma Black screeched when she came out of the kitchen to find her middle son glaring at the newspaper angrily.

"Nothing, Mum," Alphard replied, doing his best to control his expression. "I'm just waiting for Alyssa and Dylan."

Irma's expression softened; it was no secret that she wanted Alphard to marry the pureblooded Alyssa. Even though the elder MacDougals hadn't been in Slytherin, their beliefs echoed those of the Blacks. However, what Irma _didn't_ know was that both her son and the two younger MacDougals were blood traitors.

"Well, invite them over for supper, won't you?" she asked brusquely before leaving him alone.

Alphard immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully his family would keep out of the way while he spoke with Dylan and Alyssa; he had called them over as soon as he had seen the newspaper that morning.

There was a loud _whoosh_ from the fireplace and he immediately raced into the drawing-room. Dylan was climbing out of the fireplace, brushing the soot from his clothes. "Alphard," he said, inclining his head towards the boy.

"Hey, Dylan. Is Lyssa still coming?"

As if in answer, the fireplace gave another _whoosh_ and Alyssa appeared in the flames this time. She had to grab on to Alphard's arm to steady herself as she nearly tripped on the carpet. His skin gave a pleasant tingle where she had touched him.

"So what did you want to see us for?" Alyssa asked.

Alphard cast a Silencing Charm on the door before answering. "This," he said, holding out the newspaper.

The twins glanced at it. "I know, I read about the reopening earlier today," Dylan said. "The Hogwarts Express leaves tomorrow, right? We're already starting to pack our stuff."

"It's a shame we only got a two-month vacation, but what could be so important that you'd want to speak to us about it today?" Alyssa asked. "Whatever Tom let loose in the school got caught, and that's the end of it."

Alphard shook his head vigorously. "I don't care about Hogwarts reopening," he said. "I care about what happened to Clara, and where she and Tom are now. What are they going to make of this?"

Alyssa's eyes hardened. After they'd received Clara's letter informing them she'd abruptly left, she hadn't been very popular with any of them, especially Alyssa. After all, it had taken them two entire days to be rescued. Alyssa had been all for revealing Clara's "mission" to find Tom Riddle in the _Daily Prophet,_ but their letter had been returned several days later. In fact, the newspaper hadn't even mentioned two missing Hogwarts students. Alphard suspected Dippet was trying to keep everything as hushed up as possible. At any rate, it was lucky for Clara that the newspaper hadn't published anything.

"I'm sure she's fine, wherever she is," said Dylan. "It was Albania she was going to, right?"

Alyssa nodded. "She's probably caught up with Tom by now." With a smirk, she added "Perhaps they've found the diadem and cured Tom of his illness! Then they'll come back to school tomorrow and live happily ever after."

Alphard shot her a warning look. "Don't be rude, Lyssa. I still feel guilty we almost sold everything we knew to the _Daily Prophet._ "

"Why should we?" Alyssa said hotly. "She abandoned us, and Dylan and I weren't allowed to leave the house for a week once we'd gotten home! We were all ready to go to Albania with her—"

"Calm down," Dylan said to his twin. He turned back to Alphard. "Is that why you called us here? So we could speculate on Clara? She's been gone two months and hasn't contacted us."

"Maybe she's dead," said Alyssa harshly. When she noticed the boys' looks, she sighed and crossed her arms. "What? It would serve her right."

"Stop it, Alyssa," Dylan warned. "I know you're a Slytherin, but—"

"So are you," she interrupted.

"For your information, the Sorting Hat wanted me in Hufflepuff, but I made it put me in Slytherin because I knew it would please Mother and Father!"

"For _your_ information, Dylan, the Sorting Hat wanted to put _me_ in Gryffindor! I insisted on Slytherin for the exact same reason you did!"

Alphard raised his wand. Red and yellow sparks shot out of it with a bang, startling the quarreling siblings. "For the record, it wanted me in Ravenclaw, but I chose Slytherin like the coward I am," he said loudly. "Now, let's stop this discussion and change back to the topic at hand. The answer to your question, Dylan, is that no, I have another reason for wanting to call you over."

"What is it?" Alyssa huffed.

Alphard pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket. "I found this stuffed under Clara's pillow in our tent and forgot about it until today," he said, unfolding it and smoothing out the wrinkles. "I think you two will find it interesting."

Dylan and Alyssa moved forward for a closer look. The words _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ were scrawled at the top of the page. Written just under the name was the phrase _I am Lord Voldemort._

"Who's Lord Voldemort?" Alyssa asked. "Is she trying to invent a new religion or something?"

Alphard shook his head. "It's an anagram." He pointed to each letter in turn, drawing a line between each phrase.

There was a short silence. "So?" Dylan finally said in a skeptical tone. "It just looks like she had too much time on her hands and decided to mess around with his name."

"I would have thought that too," Alphard replied, "if I hadn't heard my sister saying the name as well."

"When?"

"I was in the Slytherin common room back in December and heard Walburga talking to Nott. They were referring to Riddle when they said the name. Voldemort."

" _Alphard_ ," Alyssa said exasperatedly, "Who cares? How does this affect anything?"

He frowned. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I just have a feeling it's important."

"If it makes you feel better, we'll tell Dippet about it," said Dylan. " _Voldemort…_ honestly..." Giving Alphard a strange look, he and Alyssa stepped back into the fireplace. "See you tomorrow."

The middle Black watched the green flames swallow his friends up, feeling an unpleasant churning in the pit of his stomach. He stared at the paper in his hand, wondering why this felt so important to him.

Behind him, the door to the sitting-room creaked open and Walburga walked in, hand-in-hand with his second cousin Orion. "Get out of here before I curse you," he said to Alphard as a way of greeting, raising his wand. Walburga laughed.

"Hello to you as well, my dear cousin," Alphard replied, stuffing Clara's paper back into his pocket. He was just about to leave when an idea struck him.

He turned slowly back around, to where Orion and Walburga were intertwined on the couch.

"Who's Lord Voldemort?"

* * *

A full minute passed before Danielle could speak. She had been sitting with her mouth open like a gaping fish, staring at Dumbledore. "H—home?" she choked, looking down at the package in her lap.

Under her incredulous stare, the package began to unwrap itself. It neatly opened to reveal her repaired, shiny Time-Turner.

"I finished it several months ago," Dumbledore said. "However, I had to wait until things had settled down before you went back to the future. Imagine if you had left just after Mr Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets! You are the one who changed the past, Miss Bailey—you must also be the one to change the future."

"Isn't that the same thing, though?" Danielle asked weakly, shoving the package away from her as if it was poisonous.

"It might seem like it now," the Transfiguration professor said calmly. He walked over to her and picked up the Time-Turner, watching the gold reflect in the light. "But eventually you will find there is all the difference in the world."

Danielle blinked several times. "I can't go home," she said unthinkingly. "The past is still different—the school was closed—Dippet and Madam Cutteridge know about Tom's curse—my suitcase—"

"Ah, but rest assured that I will take care of that," Dumbledore said reassuringly, pressing the necklace into her hand and closing her fingers over it. "I will require the Invisibility Cloak, but the Vita Servo is yours to keep. Now is the time for you to go back."

"No—" Danielle said, the cold metal already turning sticky under her sweaty palms. " _No_ —Alyssa—Dylan—Tom—"

"The only time that package will open is when things have returned to their normal state," Dumbledore said for what she was sure was the millionth time. "It opened, did it not?"

"Yes—but—there's got to be something—I need to say goodbye—"

"I fear that it will be more painful for you to say your goodbyes rather than just leaving now," Dumbledore said, and there was true sadness in his eyes. "You have fallen in love, Miss Bailey, and that is the exact opposite of what I told you to do."

" _Tom_ …" Danielle choked. She remembered her last words to him: _I'll be back in a moment, I promise._ That and the fact it was her birthday was cruelly ironic, as if Fate was playing a joke on her.

"Mr Riddle will be fine," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I assure you—"

"I need to say goodbye," Danielle burst out, jumping up and half-running toward the door. But it was tightly locked, and no matter how many times she screamed " _Alohomora_!" it still would not open.

When she whirled back around to face Dumbledore, she saw him in an entirely different light: rather than the greatest wizard who had ever lived—kind, generous—she saw someone who was preventing her from one simple goodbye.

"It is for the greater good, Miss Bailey," he said. She saw him wipe a tear from his own eye, and she wanted to scream. _He_ shouldn't be crying. _He_ wasn't the one who was being torn from what was his life for the past seven months. _He_ wasn't the one who had fallen in love…

"Would you like me to place a Memory Charm on you?" Dumbledore asked. "It is entirely optional, as I trust you will not breathe a word of your experience, but perhaps it might be easier for you that way…"

" _No_ ," Danielle nearly shouted. "I don't want to forget." _No matter how much pain it causes me._

"Very well," said Dumbledore. He pointed at an ordinary-looking quill on the desk. "That is the Portkey that will get you back to your family's field in approximately—" he pulled out his pocket watch, "—thirty seconds. Ten seconds after you arrive there, the Time-Turner will be charmed to take you back to 2011."

"What are you going to tell Tom about my disappearance?" Danielle asked, pulling the gold necklace over her head. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn't care. There was no point in fighting, no point in screaming. This had been exactly what she wanted just a few months ago.

A tiny smile had appeared on Dumbledore's face. "That, Miss Bailey, is, shall we say, history."

The quill on the desk had begun to glow. Danielle reached out and picked it up, taking great, shuddering breaths. As she tried to calm herself, she stared at Dumbledore and wondered if she should say something or thank him in some way. No matter how angry she was at him, he _did_ have a point…it would be a complete and total disaster if she stayed in the past.

"Farewell, Miss Bailey," Dumbledore said as the quill glowed even brighter and Danielle felt a jerk in her stomach region. "I hope that you will not think too badly of me for the rest of your life."

She almost managed to smile through her tears, but then she was yanked backwards into swirling nothingness.

Using a Portkey was almost worse than Apparating. Several seconds later, Danielle fell hard onto wet and muddy grass. She barely had time to catch her breath and stare around the empty field before a loud ticking noise sounded in her ears. Glancing down, she saw the Time-Turner's hourglass rapidly spinning and she was pulled by an invisible force again, only this time it was forwards rather than backwards.

Hazy, indistinct shapes whirled and spun around her dizzily, so fast she didn't have time to focus on any of them. Just as she was beginning to feel nauseous, everything stopped. Danielle collapsed on the grass, head spinning.

There were noises all around her: ringing in her ears and muffled shouting. Groaning loudly, she opened one eye slowly and then the other.

Her house—Merlin, her _house_ —was standing in front of her, as warm and welcoming as ever. Her mother's car was parked in the driveway, and an owl cage with an angrily squawking owl inside lay several feet away. People were shouting in the house. She had been taken back to the exact second she'd left.

There was a throbbing pain in her head where it had made contact with the ground. Swearing under her breath, Danielle got shakily to her feet and reached for the Time-Turner, but it had disappeared. The quill was also nowhere to be seen. Looking down at herself, she realized she had gone back to wearing robes with Ravenclaw blue.

Dumbledore. Of course. She reached into her pocket and drew out a small bottle that had certainly not been there before. The words _Calming Draught_ were scrawled on the side.

Uncorking the potion, Danielle drank it in one. She would certainly need to be calmed.

Before she could think any more, the front door swung open and a suitcase came flying out. "Bloody _hell_ ," an angry voice griped. "There was no _need_ to throw my _trunk_ over the _stairs_ , Mum!"

Danielle could only stare at her brother for the longest time, flabbergasted. Andy raised an eyebrow at her in the way only thirteen-year-olds could do. "What's wrong, Danielle?" he asked sullenly. "Hippogriff got your tongue?"

The shock of hearing her first name said aloud again was nothing compared to the fact that she was back—she was _home_. "Andy!" she murmured, and sprinted over to her brother where she proceeded to hug him so tightly he gasped for air.

"Merlin, what is your problem?" he demanded. "You just left the house ten seconds ago and you weren't so eager to hug me then."

"You have no idea," she muttered.

After she'd finished hugging Andy (or rather, he pushed her away), she ran into the house to embrace her parents. To her horror, she began sobbing as soon as she saw their faces. This led to them becoming concerned and forcing her to sit down, where she gulped hysterically, unable to speak, until Andy burst into the room complaining that they were going to miss the train.

"Are you _sure_ you're feeling all right, Danielle?" Mrs Bailey asked for the umpteenth time as her daughter took a deep breath and nodded.

"Guys, the train leaves in twenty-five minutes!" Andy yelped as they made their way outside. "It takes twenty minutes just to get to London!"

"Maybe you should just Apparate him to King's Cross, Robert," Mrs Bailey said in a low voice to her husband. "I can always write the school and tell them Danielle is—"

"No, I'm fine," Danielle said as she loaded her suitcase and owl cage into the back of the car. "I just…freaked out for a minute, that's all."

Her parents still looked unconvinced, but they got into the car without another word. It was only when they were speeding towards London that Danielle finally mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering her for so many months. "Who's William?"

Her mother audibly gasped and her hands slipped on the steering wheel. Mr Bailey's arm shot out to steady her. "Why are you asking this?" he asked, glancing in the rearview mirror at Danielle.

"I, er, heard Mum saying the name in her sleep last night," Danielle lied, realizing too late that it had been the wrong time to ask the question.

The car swerved abruptly to the side of the road and Mrs Bailey began crying quietly. Mr Bailey gave his wife a quick kiss on the head and turned around to look at his daughter with what she imagined was a reproachful expression. "Can I tell them, Liz?" he asked quietly.

Mrs Bailey nodded, desperately trying to pull herself together. Danielle felt sickened at making her mother cry like this. But on the other hand, this meant that her mysterious dreams at least had some truth to them.

"We didn't want to tell you about William until you were older," Mr Bailey said in a low voice. "We chose to…try to forget that part of our lives."

"What part?" Andy asked. He seemed to have forgotten how very late for the train they were.

"The part when Voldemort was after us," Mr Bailey explained, sending chills down Danielle's spine. "You two know, of course, that since your mother and I are both Muggle-born, we were prime targets during the Second Wizarding War. William was…your older brother."

"I had a _brother_?" Andy asked, astonished.

Mr Bailey nodded. "He was three and a half years older than Danielle. When it became public knowledge that Voldemort had risen to power again, Albus Dumbledore, who was Headmaster of Hogwarts at the time, contacted your mother and I. He told us that it would be advisable to go into hiding, since he had gotten word that Voldemort had personally ordered our entire family killed."

"Why?" Danielle whispered.

"Your mother had an uncle named Billy Stubbs. According to Dumbledore, he and Voldemort once knew each other and apparently Voldemort had just murdered him several days before."

"So he just killed him because they knew each other?" Andy said, confused, "That doesn't make sense."

"I know, and even Dumbledore did not fully explain why," Mr Bailey mused. "He just said that Voldemort was planning to kill every member of Billy Stubbs's family, blood-related or not. Since Billy never married or had children, we were the next on his list."

Mrs Bailey, who had managed to stop crying though her eyes were still wet, whispered "Paris."

"Yes, I was just getting to that, dear," Mr Bailey said patiently. "When this occurred, William (who is Billy's namesake, by the way) had just turned four and Danielle was only a few months old. We had been living in London for the past seven years, but under Dumbledore's orders we fled to this house, where we placed everything from Muggle repellent jinxes to the Fidelius charm on it."

"Wait," said Danielle. She suddenly felt very tired; even though she was interested in the story she had to struggle to stay awake. "You told us the house was built in 1999."

"It was, technically," Mr Bailey admitted. "But I'm getting to that part. When we moved here, we were terrified. Every day was spent living in fear, worrying that Voldemort would break down our defences and Danielle would never live to see her first birthday." He paused, suddenly looking very, very old. "As time passed, we learned that Dumbledore had also arranged a safe place in a tiny town for my parents in Wales. Your mum's parents, who were of course prime targets, had escaped to Paris. Seeing as how they were Muggles, they were not told anything more other than an evil wizard was after them.

"Shortly after William's fifth birthday and Danielle's first, Elizabeth became pregnant again. Dumbledore was dead by this time, and we had no one to turn to. Our Secret-Keeper was your mother's best friend, but she was also in hiding somewhere we did not know about.

"When the war was at its peak, shortly after Danielle's second birthday, we were discovered. Our Secret-Keeper had been tortured into giving out information about us and then killed. Death Eaters stormed our house and, fearing for everyone's lives, I just time to grab Danielle and cast a spell that would Floo her to Paris. She, at least, would be safe.

"There were five Death Eaters and only me fighting them, so of course I was defeated at once. Elizabeth ran upstairs with William and attempted to Disapparate, but just before she did William let go of her hand and tried to run back to me. He was killed in an instant."

Andy's mouth was open in horror. Danielle was sure hers was too.

"I managed to Disapparate away from the house before they could kill me. Elizabeth and I met at my parents' house in Wales, our designated safe place. The shock of William's death almost made her lose the baby. She wanted to go back home and find his body, but she was very ill at the time.

"Meanwhile, the very next day, Death Eaters also broke into your grandparents' hiding place in Paris, where they had taken Danielle in. They killed Matilda and Patrick, and were about to do the same to Danielle when members of the Order of the Phoenix appeared out of nowhere to duel them. Apparently, one of Dumbledore's last requests before his death was that guards be stationed near their flat at all times." Mr Bailey paused to take a breath.

"Why did Dumbledore care so much about us?" Andy asked.

"I don't know," his father replied.

Danielle did, but she kept her mouth shut. She wasn't sure anything coherent would come out anyway.

"The Order managed to defeat the Death Eaters, though narrowly, and bring Danielle back to England where we were reunited with her several days later. We lived in Wales for another week before Voldemort was defeated." A wry smile curved across Mr Bailey's lips. "Elizabeth had gone into labour the day before, and Andy was supposedly born moments after Voldemort's death…"

"That's awesome!" Andy said, eyes wide. "I know I was born the day he was defeated, but moments after? Teddy is gonna love this!"

"We rebuilt the house a year later, when we could stand to come back to this area," Mr Bailey said. He shrugged slightly. "And there you go, Danielle. That's the answer to your question."

"Thanks," she said in a strangled voice.

* * *

" _Lyssa, look! Riddle's back!"_

_Alyssa followed Dylan's gaze to the other side of the Great Hall, where Tom Riddle was just entering the room. Tall and imposing, he was looking paler than usual. A murmur went through the Hall as he walked over to the Slytherin table and took a seat between Abraxas Malfoy and Angela Greengrass._

" _I heard he was just at the hospital wing," Alphard whispered. "Madam Cutteridge was giving him a potion."_

" _Where's Clara, though?" Dylan hissed._

_Before the others could answer, Dippet stood up. The room quieted at once. "Boys and girls, students of Hogwarts—before I explain more about the circumstances that have led to your arriving back here tonight, I would like to take a moment to mourn the death of a student."_

_Whispers broke out again. Everyone looked frantically around their table to make sure the people they knew were still there._

" _Just yesterday, one of our Slytherin students received word that her aunt, who was currently in Holland, had passed away. She immediately departed for that country, and had no sooner arrived there when she was killed by Grindelwald's forces. I remind you that it is dangerous for any witch or wizard to travel in these times, especially to a country like Holland that is currently under Grindelwald's control." Dippet paused to wipe a tear from his eye. "Let us have a moment of silence for our fifth-year Slytherin prefect, Miss Clara Ashford."_

" _WHAT?" Dylan, Alyssa and Alphard exclaimed in unison. Their voices rang around the silent Great Hall._

_The entire school turned to face them. Turning bright red, Dylan hissed to his twin, "This is all your fault. You said it would serve her right if she died!"_

" _I didn't mean it," Alyssa hissed back._

_Alphard craned his neck to see Tom. His hands were folded in his lap and he was looking up at Dippet with his usual emotionless expression._

_When the moment of silence was over and Dippet had resumed his speech, Alphard murmured, "What if Riddle killed her?"_

_Dylan and Alyssa's faces wore identical expressions of horror. It was clear they had come to the same conclusion he had._

* * *

The Baileys arrived at King's Cross just in time; the last of the students were leaping up onto the train and guards were slamming the doors shut behind them. Danielle couldn't help but remember the last time she had been here, at the beginning of 1943: due to the war, everyone's faces had been haggard, thin and strained. Now in the future, people were laughing and shouting, dressed in modern clothes and appearing much more at ease.

By the time Mr and Mrs Bailey loaded their children's luggage and owl cages into the train, it was five minutes to eleven. Andy merely kissed his parents goodbye and promised to write before jumping aboard. Danielle, however, stayed on the platform longer. She felt her eyes fill with tears again as she looked at her parents. One part of her was angry that they had kept William a secret for so long; the other was filled with sadness that she had to leave them again so soon.

"Study hard, love," Mrs Bailey said as she hugged Danielle tightly. "Remember, it's your OWL year."

Danielle half-laughed, half-sobbed. Little did her parents know she'd already been through three-quarters of her OWL year.

"Remember to try out for the Quidditch team," her father joked.

Danielle scowled at him. "Maybe, if I want to be unconscious for five days."

"Hey! Is Andy already on the train?" A blue-haired boy had come up behind them, looking windswept. Danielle couldn't help but grin at the sight of Teddy Lupin, her brother's best friend and fellow Gryffindor. Teddy was somewhat famous in the wizarding world: his parents had been Aurors who were killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, and his godfather was Harry Potter. Luckily, Teddy was easygoing and energetic. He was also the only one of Andy's friends Danielle could stand to have around for more than five seconds.

"Hey, Teddy! Yeah, he just got on," she said, gesturing to where Andy was waving from one of the windows.

Teddy thanked her and climbed onto the train as well. Danielle turned around to say goodbye to her parents one last time, but they were speaking to another couple. She instantly recognized the messy black hair and glasses of Harry Potter, and his wife Ginny beside him. Their three young children were running around enthusiastically. Danielle figured they must be here to say goodbye to their godson.

"Danielle, have you seen Teddy?" Mrs Bailey asked her, turning around. "Ginny wants to make sure he got on the train all right."

"He went to find Andy," Danielle said.

"Oh, good," said Ginny Potter, relieved. "I wanted to make sure he hadn't tried to run away or something—he's just entered that stage of teenage rebellion. Andromeda tells me he can be quite a handful."

"Are you talking about Teddy?" Harry asked, stopping his conversation with Mr Bailey to look at his wife.

"No, we were talking about Andromeda's other grandchild," Ginny replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Honestly…"

Danielle laughed, but her eyes were on Harry. She had met him in person several times before when he had come to fetch Teddy from their house (the Potters were like Teddy's second family), but she had never really thought about what he had done before. He had been Voldemort's downfall. He had killed Tom.

Danielle felt a mixture of grief and pity. She wasn't sure she had fully comprehended the idea that she was back in the future for good—that there was no turning back. She kept thinking that any second, she would wake up and be back in Albania.

It _felt_ like a dream, certainly. Everyone was around her, laughing and talking, but she wasn't part of it. She felt alien, foreign, the way she had done when she had first arrived in the past. But that was ridiculous. _This_ was her home. Tom was just some—some teenage fancy.

_Look at all you did for him. Was he? Was he really?_

A loud, piercing whistle scattered her thoughts. Mrs Bailey pushed her towards the train. "Go, go!" she urged.

Embracing her parents one last time, Danielle sprinted towards the Hogwarts Express and jumped through the last open door just as the train began to move forward. She immediately pushed past the throngs of students to the nearest compartment, where she hurried to the window and waved frantically at her parents. Mrs Bailey blew her a kiss. Harry and Ginny raised their hands in farewell. Their children were racing after the train, trying to catch up to it, but as it gathered up speed they stopped at the end of the platform and settled for jumping up and down in excitement instead.

Danielle waved until the people were no bigger than ants, then the train rounded a corner and the station disappeared from view.

It took her ten minutes to find an empty compartment. When she did manage to find the last one at the very end of the train, she curled up into a ball near the window and watched the countryside go by. Now that she was alone, Danielle had time to think about her predicament.

The thoughts she had been repressing since Dumbledore had given her the Time-Turner suddenly bubbled over, and tears stung at her eyes. Now she wasn't crying because she was home—she was crying for all she had lost, all she had left behind. Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard…why hadn't she written them to apologize? They probably spent the rest of their lives resenting her. Myrtle…why hadn't she apologized to the ghost when she could? It was basically her fault that the basilisk had killed her. If Danielle had been keeping a closer eye on Tom…

And, of course, she'd never apologized to Tom himself. He was the most important part of the past to her. Danielle felt a bittersweet longing for him. Her feelings had always been so complex— _he_ had been so complex. Voldemort was evil, always evil, everyone said. But she had seen Tom Riddle without any defences, completely vulnerable. How many others could say _that_?

It had been easy to fall in love with what was on the outside, certainly. Tom was extremely handsome, he was very intelligent, he appeared to be polite, humble, quiet. In short, he had been every girl's dream. But Danielle had seen past that. He _wasn't_ polite or humble. Tom was manipulative, scheming, prejudiced. He could be almost normal one moment and then strike out the next. Danielle never knew who the _real_ Tom Riddle was…she'd never known where the curse stopped and he began.

But somewhere between the air raid and their arrival in Albania, she had fallen in love with him. She was sure of that. It didn't matter that she was sixteen (or rather, she supposed she was back to being fifteen now). It didn't matter that he could never love her back. There was unrequited love, wasn't there?

Danielle knew she should just get on with her life. Her time in the past would become just a memory. She would grow up, graduate Hogwarts, get a job, get married—maybe even have children.

But who could ever live up to Tom for her? What man could ever be as complex or as dangerous as Tom Riddle? Danielle didn't want to settle, but it might be something she had to do. People did it all the time. Kaltrina had settled for Brahim and look where that had led her. She was fairly happy, but she had regretted her decision every single day of her life. Did Danielle _really_ want to live like that, even if it meant being safe? Would she trade security and peacefulness for love?

Tom cared for her as much as he could care for anyone, Dumbledore had said. But what did that _mean,_ exactly? Could he maybe, eventually fall in love with her, if he was somehow prevented from becoming Voldemort? If he'd found the diadem and cured himself, who would he be?

Danielle knew she was dwelling on these questions in vain. It was all over now. She had had her adventure. It was time to step back and start living her life again.

What kind of life was it, though, when her heart was seventy years in the past?


	36. The Paradigm Shift

She was asleep, completely exhausted from the day's events, when the train arrived in Hogsmeade. Moving in a half-unconscious state, Danielle followed the other students out of the train and to the carriages that waited to take them up to Hogwarts. A numb shock hit her when she saw the beasts pulling them: huge, skeletal, black creatures that snorted and stamped their hooves angrily if someone ventured too close. The Thestrals—of course, she could see them now.

_Thanks, Tom._

"DANIELLE!" four voices shrieked from somewhere behind her. Turning, Danielle had just enough time to brace herself before she was nearly tackled to the ground in enthusiastic hugs.

"Merlin! I can't believe it!" she exclaimed in spite of herself, shocked. Her four best friends, who she was ashamed to say she'd almost completely forgotten about, stood in front of her with beaming smiles on their faces. The five Ravenclaws—Danielle, Adrianna, Heidi, Tabitha, and Fiona—had been inseparable since their first year.

Danielle felt embarrassed as she untangled herself from their hugs. She'd missed them lots when she'd first arrived in the past, but as time wore on they'd gradually slipped her mind. She couldn't help but unconsciously compare them to Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard: would they agree to go on a long, perilous journey with her, even when they had only a vague idea what was happening and with no clear goal in mind?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Chattering excitedly, the five girls climbed into the nearest carriage and quizzed each other on what they had done during the summer. Danielle, however, stayed quiet for the most part. She examined them each in turn and tried to guess what they would do if they had been in her situation: smart, know-it-all Adrianna, who would have probably managed to repair the Time-Turner herself without calling on Dumbledore; bubbly and energetic Heidi, who would have made the best of the circumstances given and wouldn't have spent endless nights crying as Danielle had; quiet and reflective Tabitha, who would probably have fascinated Tom more than Danielle ever could; and rebellious, outspoken Fiona, who wouldn't have hesitated to give Tom a piece of her mind.

A cold seemed to envelop the carriage as they neared the school. Danielle drew her cloak tighter around her, wondering if she was about to finally crack. The Calming Draught had long since worn off and she was trying to keep her mind on something, anything that didn't involve the past seven months.

"Hey, is it just me, or are you guys cold?" Fiona finally asked as the carriage slowed. Everyone nodded.

Danielle was temporarily relieved that she hadn't, in fact, imagined the chilly temperature. "Well, we are further north," she said.

"But not far enough to make us _this_ cold," Tabitha pointed out.

Danielle could see her breath by the time the carriage ground to a halt. Now an odd chill had begun to surround her entire body, freezing her bones and slowing her muscles. For the first time, she felt afraid. "M—maybe we should just s—stay in the c—carriage," she shivered.

Heidi and Tabitha agreed, but Adrianna and Fiona wanted to investigate further. They swung open the doors and jumped out at once. The coldest rush of wind yet assailed them. Danielle's teeth were chattering so hard she was worried they might break off.

Five minutes slowly passed. Adrianna and Fiona still hadn't returned. The three remaining girls stared at each other worriedly. "I think we should follow them," Heidi said, breaking the silence.

Tabitha nodded.

Danielle drew out her wand with shaking fingers and stood up. "I'll go first," she said, trying to sound braver than she felt. Her two friends watched her warily as she climbed out of the carriage.

As soon as her feet hit the frosty ground, she stumbled and fell to her knees. It was even colder out here…so cold. She felt odd too—almost as if there was a hollow feeling in her chest. She tried to bring up the faces of her parents, her brother…but she couldn't. What was happening?

All of a sudden, she knew.

Dementors.

Raising her head slightly, Danielle squinted into the darkness to see a tall black figure gliding slowly toward her, not touching the ground. She staggered to her feet as the being got closer. Joyfulness, cheerfulness, laughter…it was as if she had forgotten what it was like to be happy.

There was a rattling noise as the Dementor took a deep breath. Danielle raised her wand and tried to picture Tom's face…but she couldn't…" _Expecto Patronum_!" she gasped, but all that came out of her wand was a hazy white mist.

Happy memories…think of happy memories…had she ever even _been_ happy in her life? It was as if every good feeling she had was being sucked out of her.

As the Dementor got closer, the feeling intensified until she nearly fainted. Summoning up all her strength, she struggled to remember how she had felt when Tom had come back. " _Expecto Patronum_!" she said again. Her voice was slightly stronger this time, but she still hadn't perfected the spell. The white mist that shot out of her wand was brighter and slightly more corporeal. The Dementor was momentarily slowed but not stopped. Why was it, when she actually _needed_ to use the spell, it failed to work?

Vaguely Danielle noticed that whatever animal had come out of her wand, it most definitely was not a fox. But she didn't have time to dwell on that—her strength was nearly spent. She fought to stay upright as the creature drifted ever closer.

Just as she was about to collapse, two figures appeared on either side of her. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " Heidi and Tabitha yelled. Instantly, a leopard and a sparrow went flying towards the Dementor. It was immediately repelled, flying back into the darkness.

"Bloody Merlin!" Heidi swore. "Why the _hell_ are Dementors here?"

"I dunno," Danielle said in a faint voice. Her head was still spinning.

Heidi and Tabitha supported her all the way up to the castle. "Go to the hospital wing, Danielle," Heidi ordered once they'd gotten to the Entrance Hall. "You're so pale…"

She nodded, gripping tightly onto the stone banister. "I—I can get there on my own," she said weakly as her friends exchanged worried looks.

"Are you sure—"

"Yeah." Danielle attempted a smile and began pulling herself up the stairs one by one. Heidi and Tabitha had probably just saved her from a fate worse than death—the Dementor's Kiss. They didn't deserve to miss the welcoming feast just because she was a little shaky.

As Tabitha and Heidi made their way into the Great Hall, Danielle heard Heidi say, "I thought her Patronus was a fox."

"Me too," Tabitha replied. "It looked so odd tonight, like a snake or something."

That was enough to make Danielle completely lose her balance. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, welcoming the darkness that rushed up to meet her.

* * *

_Ignoring Alyssa and Dylan's skeptical comments, Alphard raced up to Dippet's office straight after the feast, determined to tell him everything they knew. Perhaps the Headmaster knew who Lord Voldemort was._

_However, he hadn't even reached the staircase when he ran into a familiar figure. "Good evening, Mr Black," Riddle said smoothly as Alphard stopped dead. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"_

_He appeared completely composed, but something flickered behind the dark eyes. "I'm—just going to see the Headmaster," Alphard explained, trying to walk past him._

_Riddle didn't move an inch. "Do you have a question?" he asked. "Perhaps I can help you…"_

_Alphard suddenly had an idea. "Actually, I do have a question. I was reading a book in French recently, and I came across a phrase that I didn't understand."_

" _Yes?" Riddle pressed, but his eyes had narrowed slightly._

" _It was Vol de mort. I was just wondering what that was in English—"_

" _Flight of death," Riddle said, his jaw clenched tight._

" _Ah. Thank you," Alphard answered, but inwardly he was cheering. So the name_ was _important. It hadn't just been Clara's scribbled musings._

" _Which book used the phrase?" Riddle inquired._

_Alphard replied with a question of his own. "What did you do with Clara?"_

_At the mention of her, Riddle visibly stiffened. "I did nothing," he responded._

" _Don't lie to me, Riddle," Alphard hissed. "I know you two went to Albania. D'you actually expect me to believe Dippet's ridiculous story?"_

" _With all due respect, I do not believe that is any of your business—"_

" _Drop the act and tell me the truth!"_

_Now Riddle was angry. He looked as though he would quite like to attack Alphard, but there were too many witnesses around. "She left abruptly and I did not know what happened until tonight," he said, still through clenched teeth. "Her death is quite unfortunate, but—"_

" _I bet you're glad," Alphard said acerbically. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but she cared for you, Riddle. Loved you, even."_

" _As I previously said, her death is quite unfortunate," Riddle said, audibly forcing his tone to politeness. Alphard knew he had seriously angered him. "Now, which book were you reading that used the phrase vol de mort?"_

" _I found it written on one of Clara's papers, actually," Alphard replied, crossing his arms._

_Riddle pulled out his wand. Alphard flinched, but he merely unlocked a door to their right. "In," Riddle commanded, pointing inside the classroom._

_Feeling it was best not to argue, but pulling out his wand as well, Alphard walked inside. Riddle followed him and locked the door. "Now," he said, advancing on Alphard, "How much do you and the MacDougals know?"_

" _Nothing," Alphard said, feeling uneasy. Riddle's eyes were boring into his and he felt a sharp pain in his head._

" _Liar," Riddle hissed, and his eyes flashed red._

" _Get away from me," Alphard warned, but Riddle disarmed him with a lazy flick of his wand._

" _I suppose in one way you are right, Black," he said, a horrid smile twisting his face. "Very soon you will know nothing. It is a pity you are not more like your siblings."_

_Before Alphard could answer, Riddle raised his wand. "Obliviate!" he ordered, and the other boy's eyes slid out of focus._

* * *

How many times had she fainted in the past year? Far too many, she was sure of that.

When Danielle came to, she was lying comfortably on a bed in the hospital wing. It was pitch black outside and she could just see a few stars winking down at her.

Aside from a dull pounding in her head and an empty feeling in her stomach, she felt fine. She was the only one in the hospital wing. _Maybe I set a new record,_ she thought. _Not even five minutes in the castle and I'm already up here._

To make matters worse, Danielle realized she was in the very bed that Tom had been in when he was ill all those years ago. It wasn't a very comforting thought.

"Ah, Miss Bailey, you're awake!" Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, had stuck her head out from behind her office door. She immediately bustled towards Danielle. "Professor Longbottom found you collapsed on the staircase and brought you up here." She shook her head in disapproval. "You were exhausted, nearly starved and in a state of shock. Merlin, child, it's no wonder you fainted! What on earth have you been doing for the past week?"

"I—I don't know," Danielle said distantly, not making eye contact. Perhaps Dumbledore should have given her more Calming Draughts.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her icily, acknowledging the lie, before bringing her a platter filled with food. "Leftovers from the feast," she said. "I suppose that should be your punishment for not taking care of yourself."

Danielle nodded vaguely before diving into the food. When she had devoured every last bite and the pain in her head had lessened, she spoke. "Madam Pomfrey, why were there Dementors on the way up to the castle? I tried to cast a Patronus, but it didn't work…"

The matron sniffed angrily. "Haven't you heard? There's been a breakout from Azkaban."

Danielle's eyes widened. "What?"

"It happened several hours ago, I believe. Seven former Death Eaters escaped."

"Death Eaters? The ones who served V-Voldemort?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "As soon as the news reached us, the Headmistress immediately ordered many forms of magical protection around Hogwarts, including Dementors. One must have gotten too close to your carriage. You should have been able to defend yourself, but seeing as how you were in an already weakened state…"

Danielle swallowed hard. "How did they escape?"

"No one knows officially as of yet, but rumour has it that the breakout has been planned for a long time. The prisoners were just waiting for the right moment." She sighed heavily. "The Headmistress made a speech, but obviously you weren't there to hear it."

"And Professor McGonagall thinks they might try to attack Hogwarts?"

"Perhaps, though the Minister of Magic thinks it far more likely that their first goal will to be track down Harry Potter. He is an accomplished Auror, though…they'll have their work cut out looking for him." Madam Pomfrey sounded smug.

Danielle felt sick. Just hours ago, she had seen Harry and his family at King's Cross saying goodbye to Teddy, ignorant of what was about to happen.

"You should go to your dormitory and rest now, Miss Bailey," Madam Pomfrey said sharply, abruptly changing her tone. "Come back if you feel ill at all. Oh, and—" she Summoned over a chocolate bar, "Eat this if you get too close to the Dementors again."

"Thanks," said Danielle, getting out of bed. She pocketed the chocolate and pulled out her wand. Just as she was about to leave, though, she remembered something. "Oh! Madam Pomfrey…today was my first day of Prefect duty. I missed everything…"

"I spoke to the Headmistress about it. You are to report to her office straight after breakfast tomorrow morning," the matron said. Danielle thanked her once again before leaving the hospital wing.

She was tired, but she wasn't about to go to bed just yet. There was something she needed to find out.

Danielle poked her head into every door along the hallway until she found an empty classroom. Hoping no one would see her, she quietly ducked into it. For a few minutes, she just stood there, wand poised. Why was she scared of the answer? Didn't she already know the truth anyway?

When she had finally gathered up the nerve, she took a deep breath and concentrated on the memory of Tom Riddle. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " she called, and a blinding light filled the dark classroom. She couldn't see for a moment—but when her eyes adjusted, she felt her heart stop.

Tabitha had been right. Her Patronus was no longer a fox. It was a snake.

Danielle could only watch in dismay as it slithered around her once and then faded. She dropped into an empty seat and put her face into her hands. Why was she so upset about this? She'd known for a long time what the truth was…but perhaps _this_ , genuine, tangible proof, was different. Her Patronus changing showed that her feelings for Tom weren't just in her head, but a reality. Her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook said that Patronuses didn't change unless there was a major emotional upheaval in heart or temperament. Death and falling in love were the two main examples the book had illustrated.

A long, long time later, Danielle stood up and left the classroom. She had dwelled upon this matter for so long, so many times, that it felt like second nature to her now. But she had just discovered concrete proof, confirmation that she had fallen in love. It felt both wonderful and horrible.

* * *

_Alyssa and Dylan were lounging on the couches in the Slytherin common room when Alphard returned. He didn't even acknowledge their presence as he headed_ _straight for the boys' dormitory._

" _Alphard!" Alyssa called, leaping up. "Where are you going? What happened?"_

_When he turned around, his eyes were unfocused. "Oh, hello, Lyssa," he said. "How are you?"_

" _Did you tell Dippet about the paper?" Dylan asked._

_Alphard frowned. "What paper?"_

" _You know, the one that Clara had? The one you were obsessed with?" Alyssa grabbed it out of his pocket._

_Alphard glanced down at it with a mildly confused expression. "How did that get in there? I've never seen it before."_

" _You're joking, right?" Dylan asked._

" _No, I am afraid he is not." The twins turned to see Riddle standing behind them as if he had been there all along. He plucked the piece of paper from Alphard's hand and tucked it inside his own pocket._

" _What are you doing?" the twins demanded in unison._

" _You will see." Riddle pulled out his wand and muttered 'Obliviate' under his breath again. Very soon the twins' eyes had become as unfocused as Alphard's._

* * *

It was late by the time Danielle reached Ravenclaw Tower. "What goes around the world but stays in one place?" asked the brass knocker.

"A globe," Danielle answered dully. The door swung forwards to allow her though and she took a moment to stare around the Ravenclaw common room. She had once believed that it was the most beautiful room in the school, aside from the Prefects' common room, but now she found herself craving the quieter, more private Slytherin common room.

Her four friends were waiting in the dormitory when she arrived. "What in the name of Merlin took you so long?" Adrianna burst out right away. "Tabitha and Heidi said you were in the hospital wing…"

"I dunno, I guess I just didn't feel like going down to the feast," Danielle said. She didn't want to get into the explanation of why she had fainted.

"Apparently you were really shaken by the Dementors," Fiona said. "I'm sorry Adrianna and I didn't come back. We saw them and kind of forgot about you guys because we were too busy wondering what was going on…"

"You missed McGonagall's big speech, too," said Heidi. "Everyone's talking about the breakout from Azkaban. Scary, isn't it? They even said we might not be allowed to go to Hogsmeade."

"Did she say how they broke out?" Danielle asked. "Azkaban's supposed to have top security, the best there is."

The girls shook their heads. "She just said that the Ministry of Magic is interrogating the other prisoners, and apparently the breakout was being planned for a while," Tabitha said, echoing Madam Pomfrey's earlier words.

Danielle sank down onto her bed. She'd been desperately hoping for some peace and quiet so she could rearrange her thoughts and try to forget about the past. It didn't look as if that would happen, though.

As the girls got ready for bed, Fiona said, "Danielle, your brother was looking for you, by the way."

"Andy? Usually he likes to pretend we're not related," Danielle replied.

"Well, he sounded upset. He wanted to you to go see him when you could."

"I'll do that," she promised, wondering what on earth would possess her brother to look for her so urgently.

* * *

_It was a hot, muggy June evening. Alyssa and Alphard were just coming inside after studying for their O.W.L.s the entire day. Laughing and talking, they were about to head back to the dungeons when they saw Olive Hornby marching up the stairs, looking irate._

" _What are you smirking at?" she snapped at them._

" _Ooh, that's not very nice," Alyssa mocked. "You are a Prefect—remember your manners!"_

_Olive had been named the Slytherin female Prefect after Clara's death. Even though she was still courting Abraxas Malfoy, she had taken advantage of the extra time with Tom Riddle to try to get him to warm up to her. To Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard's delight, it didn't appear to be working._

" _Shut your mouth, MacDougal," Olive retorted. She stepped into the light and Alphard noticed how pale she looked, how her eyes were wet. She had gained copious amounts of weight in the past two months._

_Alyssa raised her wand, fully intending to jinx her enemy, when someone cast a Shield Charm between them. The two girls whirled around to see Tom coming down the Grand Staircase. Like Olive, he didn't appear to be looking too healthy: he had lost as much weight as she had gained, and he could easily be mistaken for a ghost. "Is there a problem here?" he asked._

" _No, Tom," Olive said, lowering her wand. "I was just having a nice chat with my friend Miss MacDougal."_

_Alyssa snorted in disbelief. Alphard put a warning hand on her shoulder._

" _I will not be available for Prefect duty tonight, I am afraid," Riddle was saying to Olive. "I would be grateful if you could find a good substitute."_

_Olive nodded and left, casting a murderous glance at Alyssa as she passed._

" _Good evening, Miss MacDougal, Mr Black," Riddle said, nodding at the twins as he swept past them._

_Something stirred in Alphard's memory. He had been having a lot of odd feelings lately—like he was supposed to remember something but couldn't._

" _Let's follow Riddle," he said abruptly to Alyssa._

_She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"_

" _I…I don't know. I just feel like it's important…" Alphard was at a loss for words. The annoying not-quite-deja-vu feeling was tugging at his memory, refusing to go away._

_Alyssa looked bewildered and confused as Alphard dragged her downstairs, past the entrance to the Slytherin common room and through the dungeons. They twisted and turned, keeping at a safe distance behind Riddle as he expertly navigated the confusing array of passages._

_Finally, he stopped just behind a corner. Alphard pulled Alyssa behind a pillar as Riddle stood staring around the corner, apparently waiting for something._

_Alyssa let out an annoyed huff. Alphard clapped his hand over her mouth, but Riddle didn't appear to have heard her. He was still staring at whatever was around the corner, waiting…_

_There was a loud creak and Riddle's head snapped around. Alphard heard a hoarse whisper coming from somewhere nearby._

_Quick as a flash, Riddle jumped around the corner. "Evening, Rubeus," Alphard heard him say._

_A gasp and a slam. "What yer doin' down here, Tom?" a vaguely familiar voice responded._

_Riddle disappeared out of view and Alphard could no longer hear him. He strained his ears, but all he could hear was a faint murmuring._

" _You dragged me down here for this?" Alyssa mouthed, narrowing her eyes at Alphard._

" _How was I supposed to know what would happen?" he mouthed back. "Let's go, then."_

_But just as they were about to leave, there was a bright flash of light and a loud bang. They jumped back behind the pillar just as something huge raced down the hallway._

_Alyssa screamed and Alphard yelled as an enormous, hairy spider scuttled down the hallway, pincers clacking and eyes gleaming. It had to have been as tall as Alphard's waist and as wide as the corridor._

_They watched in horror as the giant spider scurried out of sight. There was a faint yell from around the corner and a muffled thump. A wand clattered to the ground and rolled around the corner, stopping in front of Alphard's feet._

" _It's Riddle's wand," he said to Alyssa and snatched it up. She stared at him with wide eyes._

_Before he could decide what to do, Riddle came around the corner, eyes blazing. "What are you doing here?" he asked them._

" _We—we were just…" Alyssa began, looking over at Alphard for support._

_He quickly handed back Riddle's wand in case the other boy had jumped to conclusions. "We heard a commotion and wondered what was going on."_

_Riddle looked at them searchingly before speaking. "You are lucky you did not come out worse. I just caught the monster that killed Miss Williams—a third-year Gryffindor boy was taking care of it."_

_Something was wrong. Something was off, but Alphard couldn't quite place it. He merely nodded as Riddle hurried off down the corridor, presumably to catch the giant spider._

_Alyssa hit him on the shoulder. "How dare you do that to me!" she exclaimed. "We were ten feet from the monster that killed Myrtle!"_

_Alphard didn't respond, not even to defend himself. No. It didn't make any sense. A third-year Gryffindor boy, much less Rubeus Hagrid, could not kill a girl even with a spider that size._

" _Lyssa, d'you ever get the feeling we're missing something?" he asked. "Like there are…holes in our memory?"_

" _There's a hole in_ your _brain all right, Alphard Black," she snapped, and stalked off down the corridor. Alphard sighed and followed her, thinking of Clara and wondering how she would react to what had just happened._


	37. More Questions Than Answers

In the middle of the night, Danielle woke from one horrific nightmare into another. Something was stabbing her chest so tightly she couldn't breathe. She threw the bedclothes away and stared down at herself, half expecting to see bloodstains. But there was nothing there. It took her a while to realize the pain was coming from inside her chest.

So this was what it felt like, to miss someone so much it was impossible to breathe. Even when she had first arrived back in the past, the pain of losing her family hadn't been this bad.

Danielle lay curled up in a ball, gasping for air as tears leaked out from under her closed eyelids. She couldn't believe her heart hadn't cracked right down the middle. Tom's face was like a constant ghost, haunting her. Wherever she looked, he was there. She was even beginning to see his features in the faces of ordinary people. She was surely going mad.

For the rest of the night, she lay awake in vain, trying to calm down. The pain didn't let up one bit and by the time morning came she hadn't fallen back asleep.

It was hard, so terribly hard, to get out of bed like nothing was wrong and plaster a smile on her face. It was hard to chatter on to the girls about the classes they were taking and the amount of homework they would get. It was hard to pretend she still belonged here.

After breakfast, Danielle made straight for Professor McGonagall's office. Though the Headmistress was getting on in years and rumours were flying around that she would retire soon, she was still a powerful witch and a force to be reckoned with.

"Password?" the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the office asked when Danielle stopped in front of it.

"Er…I don't know," she said truthfully.

"Well then, I'm afraid you'll just have to—" it began, but was interrupted by footsteps running down the hallway.

"Danielle!" a voice called. She turned to see Andy jogging towards her. "Professor McGonagall wanted to see me in her office too."

Danielle frowned. "Why?" she asked. "And what did you want to tell me?"

Her brother shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "McGonagall just told me to find you." He turned to the gargoyle. " _Vigilance_!"

It moved aside and Andy immediately hurried behind it. Danielle followed him up a short, spiraling staircase before facing another wooden door. She knocked three times.

"Enter," the voice of Professor McGonagall said. Cautiously, the two siblings entered the room.

The Headmistress was sitting behind her desk in the centre of the large, circular room, looking stern even for her. Danielle's eyes scanned the portraits lining the walls until she found the one she was looking for. Old and white-bearded, but with the same twinkling eyes and kind expression, Dumbledore smiled down at her. This was in contrast to the portrait beside him, a scowling man with long black hair and very dark eyes.

Danielle longed to speak to Dumbledore, to ask him the thousands of questions currently clamouring for attention in her mind, but it was impossible with Andy and McGonagall there. So she pretended to not notice Dumbledore and instead sat down on one of the chairs in front of the Headmistress's desk.

"Now," McGonagall began once they were all seated, "I trust you have heard about the recent breakout from Azkaban."

Danielle and Andy nodded, exchanging a quick glance.

"There were seven Death Eaters that escaped. Their whereabouts are currently unknown.' McGonagall sighed, a gesture unusual for her. "I heard from Madam Pomfrey that you encountered a Dementor yesterday evening, Miss Bailey. They are just one of the forms of magical protection I have enforced around this castle, should the convicts choose to come here. I will readily admit that it was my error in bringing them so close to the school that they could harm a student. I assure you that you will not have to face one again."

"What are the other forms of magical protection?" Andy interrupted, but McGonagall fixed him with a brisk stare and he fell silent.

"Until they are caught, however, Hogwarts will be under the best security imaginable." The Headmistress pursed her lips in a thin smile. "You are now probably wondering why I called you up here, am I correct?"

"I thought you were going to explain my Prefect duties to me, Professor," Danielle said.

"So I was, Miss Bailey. But that is not the only reason I summoned you here." McGonagall paused. "Have you read the _Daily Prophet_ today?"

"I don't read the newspaper," Andy said. Danielle merely shook her head.

McGonagall pushed a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ over to them. "Some of the names might be familiar to you."

Danielle studied the headline carefully. _Death Eaters escape from Azkaban,_ it read. Just underneath it were seven pictures of dark, cruel-looking wizards jeering at the camera. What caught her attention, though, were the two last pictures. She had seen those faces before, in her nightmares.

_The Minister of Magic has confirmed that yesterday seven former Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban: Damien Mulciber, Ciaran Rosier, Brendan Avery, Thorfinn Rowle, Aaron Travers, Gregory Selwyn and Janus Yaxley…_

Danielle didn't bother to read the rest of the article. Two of the men—Selwyn and Yaxley—had been the ones who were sent to murder her family. They had killed her grandparents and the brother she'd never known. They were still alive, and now they were at large.

"I see that Miss Bailey has figured it out," McGonagall said gently. Danielle looked up to see her normally severe face soften into a kinder expression. "Do you know how the breakout affects you, Mr Bailey?"

Andy shook his head, looking confused.

"Yaxley and Selwyn were the ones sent by Voldemort thirteen years ago to murder your family. They made a vow that as long as they were alive, they would serve Voldemort. Even though their master is now defeated, that will not stop them. They know that the four of you are still alive, and your parents fear that they will come after you."

There was a ringing silence in the office. Some of the portraits shuffled and coughed nervously. Others, like Dumbledore and the dark-haired man next to him, examined Danielle and Andy's reactions closely.

"So…does this mean we're in danger?" Andy finally asked in a strangled voice.

Normally Danielle would have laughed at her brother's cluelessness, but she only found herself staring straight ahead, frozen.

"Yes, Mr Bailey. Your parents owled the school as soon as they heard the news to inform me that they are going into hiding along with your two surviving grandparents. Here at Hogwarts, we will place the two of you under special protection." McGonagall adjusted her glasses. " This will mean restrictions such as an earlier curfew and limited trips to Hogsmeade."

"But that's not—"

"Do you want to be safe or not?" Danielle snapped at her brother. McGonagall and Andy looked surprised, but there was a knowing look in Dumbledore's eyes.

"That is a blunt way to say it, Miss Bailey, but the precautions are for your own safety," the Headmistress agreed. "Also, please do not tell your friends anything about this. Secrets can always slip out, even from the most trustworthy of people."

Danielle nodded. How many secrets was she keeping from everyone anyway? One more wouldn't hurt.

When McGonagall had finished instructing them, she gave a rare smile. "Don't worry too much on this matter. The current Auror team at the Ministry is one of the best in Europe. I'm sure the Death Eaters will be caught soon."

Andy looked relieved, and Danielle tried to make herself feel the same way. She'd had to deal with murderers before. In fact, she'd fallen in love with one. But something told her the same wouldn't happen with Yaxley or Selwyn.

Shortly afterwards, McGonagall dismissed Andy. When he had left, Danielle fidgeted in her seat and tried to look interested as the Headmistress filled her in on the requirements of being a Prefect. It was rather ironic that even with all the restrictions placed on her, she was still allowed to be one. By now, Danielle figured being a Prefect was more trouble than it was worth.

Finally, McGonagall finished her speech. "…As always, go to the Head of your house or the Head Boy and Girl if you have any questions."

Danielle nodded. "I will. Er, Professor, do you mind if I speak with Dumbledore for a moment?"

The Headmistress looked surprised. "I won't stop you, but if you need assistance—"

"It is a private matter, Minerva," the portrait of Dumbledore said kindly. "Miss Bailey has been waiting to speak with me for some time, I imagine."

Danielle inwardly cheered. McGonagall seemed to take this as a dismissal. "Very well," she sighed. "You _are_ a Prefect and I trust you will not deface the office. Just do not be too long with the matters you are discussing—classes start in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

With one last disapproving look at the portraits, McGonagall left the office, shutting the door behind her. Danielle instantly leapt out of her seat and ran to the wall. All the other portraits watched her eagerly.

"Go ahead, Miss Bailey," Dumbledore encouraged. "I assumed you would be back in here someday."

"What did you say to Tom?" Danielle asked. "What did you tell the others about my disappearance?"

"Shortly after you'd left, I went back upstairs to Mr Riddle's room—"

" _Riddle_?" several portraits said in unison.

"Are you talking about Tom Riddle?" a white-haired, squat man asked. Danielle realized with a jolt it was a much older Professor Dippet.

"Yes, we are, Armando," Dumbledore replied. He gave Dippet a stern look, and the old Headmaster stood up and walked out of his portrait. Stunned, Danielle watched the other portraits do the same until her, Dumbledore, and the sallow-faced man beside him were the only ones left.

"How did you do that?" Danielle asked in disbelief. "Get them all to leave?"

"Professor Dumbledore has ways about him mere mortals cannot dream of," the sallow-faced man spoke for the first time, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He surveyed Danielle suspiciously from under a greasy curtain of hair.

"Are you Professor Snape?" she asked him, awed. Severus Snape was one of the most controversial figures in wizarding Britain even thirteen years after his death. There were still fierce debates as to whether he had been evil or not and entire novels written about him. One of the rumours was that he had become a double agent for Dumbledore after Voldemort had killed the woman he loved. Danielle had always liked that explanation; she thought it was terribly romantic. But looking at this sour, vampire-like man she found it hard to imagine him loving anyone.

Professor Snape's sneer had deepened. "Funny, I thought you were supposed to be a Ravenclaw," he said.

Danielle felt her face flush in anger. She ignored the smirking ex-Headmaster and turned back to Dumbledore, who was looking rather amused. "You can continue, Professor."

"Well," Dumbledore said casually, "When I went back up to Mr Riddle's room, I found him sitting on the bed with his belongings packed and his wand at the ready. I assume he was waiting for you, or he would have left by then."

A jolt of pain stabbed Danielle's heart, but she forced herself to ignore it.

"When I entered the room, he was most angered to see me. He tried to hide it, but I am somewhat gifted in Legilimency, as you know. I explained to him that you had received word that your Muggle aunt, who was vacationing in Holland, had passed away unexpectedly and you were going to see her."

"Albus, what exactly is the meaning behind this?" Snape asked, looking frustrated.

But Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him and continued: "Of course, being who he was, Mr Riddle did not believe my story for one second. He demanded that he follow you—"

Danielle winced.

"—But I told him you would be back to Hogwarts as soon as possible since it had reopened," Dumbledore said. "I could tell he was still mistrustful of me, but seeing as how I had just saved his life and I knew his biggest secret didn't put him in a wise position to discuss the matter further. I Apparated him to Hogwarts and immediately had Julia make him a healing potion—if he took the potion once a week the effects of the curse would be slowed. It was what we were planning to give him before he escaped Hogwarts." Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. "The next day, however, just before the other students began to arrive, I informed Headmaster Dippet about your journey to Holland. Several hours later, he received a letter informing him that you had been killed by Grindelwald's forces. The Headmaster made a speech at dinner and the matter was resolved. You must remember, Miss Bailey," he said as Danielle opened her mouth, "You were not the only student to mysteriously disappear or die in those years. It would not have seemed completely out of the ordinary to the other students."

The portrait of Snape had blanched as soon as Dumbledore had said the word 'Dippet'. Now he was visibly angered. "Armando Dippet has not been Headmaster for sixty-one years, Albus," he said dangerously. "Do you mean to say that—"

"Miss Bailey was in the past? Yes, Severus," Dumbledore answered. "She found a Time-Turner and accidentally sent herself back to the year 1942."

"That is _impossible_!" Snape growled. "The use of every Time-Turner is strictly controlled by the Ministry. There is no possible way the girl could have randomly stumbled across it!"

"I have thought of that too, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "It was a first-generation one too."

"First generation?" Danielle asked.

"Yes. When the first Time-Turner was invented in 1930, it only had the power to change the year, not the date or time. The second generation of Time-Turners were invented just after the new millennium, with the ability to change the date as well as the year. You, in 2011, found a Time-Turner that was at least fifteen years old. At the battle of the Department of Mysteries in 1996, every single Time-Turner was destroyed. This means that it is no coincidence it just happened to show up on your front lawn."

"You mean someone traveled at least fifteen years into the future to do it deliberately," Danielle said. Her mind was racing.

Dumbledore nodded. Snape looked livid. "That is _exactly_ why Time-Turners should be banned and destroyed," the dark-haired professor said, voice shaking in anger. "How do you know she hasn't changed anything, Albus?"

"Oh, she certainly changed things," Dumbledore said casually. "However, Severus, you must remember she is not the first person to use a Time-Turner and get lost in the past—or future. Every action you take, Miss Bailey, could be the result of a complete stranger meddling with time."

Danielle stared at the portrait in dismay. "Why does this have to be so complicated?" she moaned.

Snape looked ready to snap back a sarcastic retort, but Dumbledore intervened. "It is only as complicated as you make it, Miss Bailey."

She shook her head to clear it. "Anyway, how did you convince Dippet and Madam Cutteridge to allow Tom back in the school?" she asked.

Dumbledore frowned. "I do not possess those memories."

"What do you mean?"

"You must remember, Miss Bailey, I am merely a portrait producing a faint echo of the past. I do not have all the memories a real person would have, nor am I a reincarnation."

"Then how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," said Snape, the smirk now back on his face. Danielle glared at him, which only seemed to make it bigger.

There was the sound of brisk footsteps outside and the door to the Headmistress' office swung open. Professor McGonagall re-entered with a misshapen package. "Have you finished your discussion yet?" she asked disapprovingly.

"Yes, I think so," said Dumbledore. He smiled at Danielle, who couldn't bring herself to smile back.

"Before you start your classes, Miss Bailey, I would ask that you do one small favour." McGonagall handed her the package. "Please give this to your friend Miss Hawthorne. She will know what it is."

"Tabitha?" Danielle asked, balancing it in her hands. "Did the mail come early?"

"No, it is not mail." McGonagall looked steely-eyed at her. "It is highly confidential, so I beg you will not open it."

Danielle shook her head and stuffed the package in her robes. "I won't."

As she left the office, she dimly heard McGonagall saying, "What in the name of _Merlin_ was that all about, Albus?"

* * *

_Dylan had just come back from dinner the night after O.W.L.s had finished, exhausted and spent. He was relieved to be going back home the next day, away from the suddenly dark atmosphere at Hogwarts._

_As he walked over to his bed, he noticed a box lying on Riddle's bedside table. It looked to be made of pure gold. Dylan frowned. Riddle, the penniless orphan, owned something as expensive as that box?_

_He tried to forget about it, but his curiosity eventually won out. The other boys hadn't come back from dinner yet, and Riddle was nowhere to be seen. It was as if some invisible force compelled him to the box. Cautiously, Dylan walked over to it and slowly opened up the cover. He was momentarily confused—why would Riddle have nothing but a mirror inside of it?_

_But it wasn't just any mirror. Dylan sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at his reflection. He looked to be much older, and he was wearing the distinguished golden robes that were the symbol of the Minister for Magic. He was grinning back at himself as people gathered around him, looking reverent._

_As Dylan watched in awe, his reflection winked at him and turned around, revealing a bank vault filled to the brim with shiny gold Galleons._

" _What do you see?"_

_Dylan whirled around, dropping the box in his surprise. Riddle stopped its fall and levitated it back up onto the table. His eyes were fathomless._

" _I—I see myself Minister for Magic," Dylan blurted out, unable to resist Riddle's stare. "I'm the richest wizard alive."_

" _A common desire, to be sure," the boy sneered. "But you are not worthy of that, Dylan MacDougal."_

" _Why not?" Dylan asked angrily. He was feeling very uneasy._

_Riddle merely smirked. He was twirling his wand around in his fingers. "Perhaps you are pure-blood, but only in name. Blood traitors are not true pure-bloods."_

" _Shut it, Riddle," Dylan snapped. It was only then he noticed Riddle had his hand on his wand. Dylan froze, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did._

_Taking advantage of Riddle's momentary shock, he ran as fast as he could of the dormitory and all the way out of the Slytherin common room, meeting up with his sister and Alphard coming back from dinner._

" _What's wrong, Dylan?" Alyssa asked, noticing the panic in his voice._

" _Riddle—he—I think he was going to curse me," Dylan gasped. He pulled the others into a corner and quickly explained what had happened in a low voice. By the time he had finished, Alphard had a triumphant look on his face._

" _He erased our memories," he said smugly. "That's why I've been having these weird déjà vu moments! Don't you remember?"_

_Now that Alphard mentioned it, Dylan found he did indeed have a shadowy memory of Riddle confronting him and Alyssa in the common room…"But why are we remembering it?" he asked. "Riddle is one of the best students in the school. Surely his Memory Charms would be powerful."_

" _He's cursed," Alphard explained. "Oh, don't you remember? Helena Ravenclaw told us the story. Clara knew, and she went to help him. And when we came back to school, he started taking potions from the hospital wing. It must be draining him of his abilities."_

" _That would make sense," frowned Alyssa. "Remember in Transfiguration when he couldn't even turn a pillow into a mouse?"_

" _Or the time he barely passed when we were brewing the Wit-Sharpening Potion?" Alphard asked excitedly. "It all makes sense!"_

" _So what do we do now?" Dylan asked. "He'll probably erase our memories again. And he's a good Legilimens, Clara told me."_

" _Stay as far away from him as possible," advised Alphard. "Pretend like you don't know anything."_

" _And if you get too close, run," Alyssa added._

* * *

When she next saw Tabitha, Danielle gave the package straight to her without asking any questions. She had enough on her mind anyway without adding in another mystery.

The two weeks that followed her arrival back in 2011 were the most painful of her life. She couldn't pay attention in class, she often forgot about Prefect duty and she slept during most of her spare time. She had turned into a shell of her former self.

Danielle tried her hardest to ignore the ache in her heart, but she would find tears pricking at her eyes at the most inopportune of moments. Adrianna, Heidi and Fiona were all extremely worried and tried to help her out at first (Tabitha always seemed to be elsewhere) but when Danielle didn't respond to their support, they slowly began to drift away from her. She was fine with that; she'd always been the type to suffer in silence. It was the nature of Ravenclaws, anyway.

As far as she and Andy knew, their parents were still in hiding. Harry Potter and his family had mysteriously disappeared as well. Danielle fervently hoped they would all be safe.

On a blustery fall day in the middle of September, she was attempting to brave the weather and do her homework outside when Teddy Lupin ran up to her. "Danielle!" he called. "D'you have a minute?"

Danielle turned to him, feeling slightly happier in spite of herself. Andy was lucky to have such an upbeat, optimistic friend. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering how you were," he said, turning up his collar as a cold wind assailed them, blowing leaves into their faces. "You know, with the Death Eaters after you and all."

Danielle groaned. Of course Andy couldn't keep his mouth shut. "I'm doing fine, Teddy," she told him. A group of menacing-looking seventh-year Slytherins glared at them as they passed.

He smiled, seeming relieved. "Good. I would be terrified if I was you. And I'm supposed to be a Gryffindor!" His normally light brown hair turned a bright shade of red as he spoke.

Danielle laughed for what felt like the first time in months. "Don't underestimate yourself," she warned him.

They walked around the grounds once before Teddy clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh! Danielle, I'm so sorry—I completely forgot. Professor McGonagall wanted to see you in her office."

The hope Danielle had felt a second before was immediately extinguished, to be replaced by the cold doubt of fear. "Did she look worried?" she asked.

Teddy shrugged. "No more than usual. Andy was with her too."

 _Oh no._ Danielle's smile disappeared. "Thanks for making me feel better, Teddy, but I have to go!"

She squeezed his hand in thanks before sprinting all the way up to the castle. Not even bothering to catch her breath, she took the stairs two at a time up the Grand Staircase until she reached the Headmistress's office. " _Vigilance_!" she gasped at the gargoyle.

It moved aside and Danielle burst into the office without knocking. Her stomach plummeted instantly. McGonagall was looking extremely gave and Andy's eyes were red. "What happened" she asked, mouth dry.

"It's Mum and Dad," Andy croaked. "Yaxley and Selwyn found them. They're dead."

* * *

_It was a fine summer's day at the Riddle House. The sun shone brightly and the sky was a perfectly cloudless blue, illuminating the enormous manor and making it look halfway inviting—a difficult feat._

_Of course, the inhabitants inside didn't go outdoors to enjoy the weather—in fact, they barely glanced out of the window the entire day. The rich, snobbish Riddles didn't care about anything other than themselves and their money. The villagers in the nearby town of Little Hangleton had learned to avoid the area entirely._

_At dinnertime, the three Riddles—young Tom Riddle, who had caused quite a scandal seventeen years beforehand when he had run off with a poor man's daughter—and his elderly parents Thomas and Mary Riddle silently entered the dining-room. They sat at the long mahogany table and ate their meal in silence, pausing only to demand favours from the housekeeping staff._

_When they were finished, they moved into the drawing-room, where they proceeded to discuss all manner of boring things. Since the Riddle fortune had been passed down for generations, none of them knew life outside of their comfortable manor._

_At seven o'clock, a maid knocked on the door. "There is a guest here to see you," she said. "He claims he's a relative."_

" _That's impossible," Mr Riddle snapped, looking pointedly at his son. "We have no other relatives."_

_Tom Riddle had gone pale. Could that witch of a woman who had hoodwinked him possibly be back? No—she would never have the nerve to show her face anywhere near him again._

_The maid stepped aside to reveal a perfect replica of Tom in his younger days—tall, extremely handsome, and pale. All of the Riddles gasped._

_Mary Riddle dropped her tea. "Who are you?" she demanded._

_The guest, who looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, didn't answer right away. He examined all three Riddles closely with a gaze that made them shudder. Finally, he said, "I am Tom Riddle."_

" _That's not possible," Thomas said instantly. "My son is Tom Riddle."_

_A horrible suspicion was beginning to dawn on the original Tom. He jumped out of his chair. "That little slut was pregnant, wasn't she? You look about the right age to be that vermin of hers."_

_Thomas shook his head slightly at him. Mary shut her eyes and clutched her husband's arm._

" _Yes," the mysterious guest said evenly, a look of disgust upon his face. "I am your son."_

" _You—you are no son of mine!" Tom shot back, the wine he had recently drunk fueling his temper._

" _You are no father of mine, either," the younger Tom Riddle agreed, still calmly. "You will pay for what you have done."_

" _How about you go ask your mother what_ she _did to_ me _? She hoodwinked me, tricked me. She said she was a witch and she had been keeping me under a Love Potion."_

" _My mother is dead," the teenager said. "And very soon, you will be too." He pulled something that resembled a stick out of his pocket._

_Mary screamed. Thomas didn't even look at his wife; he was looking around for an escape. But the most terrified one of all was Tom Riddle Senior._

_Before anyone else could utter another word, the room flashed with green light and all was silent._


	38. Risky Contrivances

Her parents were dead.

She and Andy were all alone.

They were orphans.

The thought terrified Danielle as she numbly made her way back to Ravenclaw Tower. McGonagall had told them everything: Yaxley and Selwyn had gone straight to Matthew and Imogen Bailey's house in Wales; Danielle's paternal grandparents. They had tortured the elderly Muggle couple until they had given up Mr and Mrs Bailey's whereabouts before killing them.

Danielle's parents had been posing as an ordinary witch and wizard in Dublin for the past two weeks. When Yaxley and Selwyn had found them, they had tortured Mr and Mrs Bailey like they had just tortured Mr Bailey's parents. However, Danielle's parents hadn't wavered when Selwyn had been interrogating them. According to McGonagall, the Death Eaters now had no idea whether Danielle and Andy were at Hogwarts or in hiding somewhere. Nevertheless, she had instructed the shopkeepers in Hogsmeade to be on alert for any suspicious activity.

So this was it. Danielle was an orphan and she was being relentlessly pursued by two tyrannical Death Eaters hell-bent on murdering her. Just fourteen days ago, she had been disappointed at the possibility of a normal life. Now it was all she wanted.

Grief, shock and stress weighed heavily down on her as she walked down the deserted halls. Most students were still outside, laughing and enjoying the weather. _They_ didn't have to deal with their parents' and grandparents' brutal murders. _They_ didn't have to deal with the fact that they might soon meet the same fate.

Halfway to Ravenclaw Tower, Danielle was struck with a horrifying thought.

It was all _his_ fault.

Tom's.

He had ordered the murder of Billy Stubbs and by extension, the Baileys. He had just as good as killed them.

No, not Tom. Voldemort.

_But they're the same person,_ Danielle argued mentally. _Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort._

Or _were_ they?

She thought of his cold, calculating manner. His heartless demeanor and the detached look in his eye when he had killed Vincent Fletcher. But there was also the helplessness she saw in him. The odd emotion in his eyes sometimes when he looked at her. The warmth of his hands, his mouth…

_Damn him,_ Danielle thought, her hands shaking and her eyes filling with angry tears. _He did this. And I love him. I_ still _love him._

_It wasn't Tom who did it…it was Voldemort. The Tom you loved was long gone when he ordered your family's murder._

Danielle passed an open window and stopped, looking down at the ground so many stories below. For the first time, she seriously considered jumping out of it. After all, what did she have left? A hollow, meaningless existence with only her brother for company? Not that she didn't love Andy—she adored him to pieces—but there was only so much he could give her.

There was only so much left of her life now.

On her way up the stairs to her dormitory, Danielle ran into a harried-looking Tabitha. She didn't seem to notice Danielle's stricken expression. "Have you seen a gold necklace anywhere?" she asked earnestly. "It must have fallen off when I was getting dressed this morning!"

"Huh? Oh…no, I haven't," Danielle replied dully as she entered the dormitory. She was blissfully, wonderfully alone; she didn't think she would be able to handle having anyone else around her just then.

Just in case, though, she drew the hangings around her bed and cast a Silencing Spell. Danielle buried her face in her pillow and waited, but the tears didn't come. It hadn't fully hit her yet that her parents and grandparents were dead, never to come back.

When she had run out of air, Danielle sat up and accidentally knocked her wand off the bed. She leaned over to pick it up, and when she did she caught a glimpse of gold several feet away.

Pulling the hangings aside, she noticed that something was stuck under Tabitha's dresser drawer. Perhaps it was the necklace she'd lost…Danielle climbed off her bed and stuck her hand under the table, swearing loudly when something scurried over her wrist.

Her hand closed around what felt like a fine chain. The necklace must have fallen off when Tabitha had been getting dressed, like she'd said. Danielle pulled her hand back and examined it closely. A delicate, tiny hourglass was suspended in an oval of pure gold. There were three small rectangles next to the hourglass, each stating a number.

Danielle froze. The necklace slipped out of her grasp but she came to life again in an instant, grabbing it with a force so tightly she nearly crushed it.

It all made sense now. Tabitha's disappearances and constant homework had an explanation: she had always been the most intelligent, the perfectionist of the group. McGonagall must have given her a Time-Turner so she could take more classes. The idea wasn't unheard of—but it was very, very strict. The Ministry of Magic monitored every use of every Time-Turner carefully.

Danielle stared at the impossibly small yet unbelievably powerful object in her hands. The itch that appeared whenever she had a very, very reckless and most likely stupid idea had begun.

* * *

" _Olive Hornby is with child?" Alyssa screeched. "Are you SERIOUS?"_

" _Keep your voice down!" Alphard urged as they pushed their way through the throngs of students eager to get their dinner. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."_

_Alyssa rubbed her hands together evilly, a grin spreading across her face. "I knew something was different with her!" she crowed. "She's been even worse than normal since she got back."_

_It was true. Three weeks into the school year, Olive had arrived at Hogwarts exceptionally late, claiming it was due to "personal reasons". Though no one could deny she had gained an astonishing amount of weight, there were very few rumours going around as to the reason why. A girl of her status being pregnant was almost unthinkable. Even if the father_ was _a Malfoy, her family would still be disgraced._

" _Who told you?" Alyssa asked as they sat down at the Slytherin table next to Dylan._

" _Walburga told me that Orion told her that Olive had told Abraxas the truth," Alphard answered, the corner of his mouth turning up at the convoluted sentence. "Apparently Abraxas wasn't very happy."_

_Saying that he "wasn't very happy" was the understatement of the century. At the present moment, while Alyssa clapped her hands together in glee, Olive was crying her eyes out in a bathroom and Abraxas was standing outside of Slughorn's office door looking enraged._

" _Why so unhappy, Abraxas?" Nott asked his friend jovially, clapping him on the shoulder. "Didn't Tom tell you what he's planning for tonight?"_

" _No," snapped Abraxas. "But I hope it's good—cursing a Mudblood would probably make me feel better right now."_

" _Patience, Abraxas," Tom Riddle said quietly, appearing out of nowhere. The group of a dozen Slytherin boys instantly quieted. "Your wish will be granted in due course."_

" _What are we doing tonight, my Lord?" Nott asked eagerly. He instantly stepped back when Tom's eyes flashed._

" _How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that in public, Nott?" Tom demanded. But a second later, he was calm again. "I am sorry to have to disappoint you, but we are merely having dinner with Slughorn. I am staying back to ask him an important question."_

_The boys nodded, exchanging quick glances. Abraxas didn't even bother to join in. He stared down at his feet, silently fuming. Tom noticed this and smirked. "What is the matter, Abraxas?" he asked. "I thought becoming a father was supposed to be a joyous time."_

_A murmur ran through the group. Abraxas turned bright red. "Ah, I see you have not spread the happy news yet," Tom chided. "Did you want to let your girlfriend inform everyone? Or is she letting her looks speak for themselves?"_

_Several boys snorted. Tom moved on down the line, taking out his wand. The ring he had recently acquired over the summer glinted on his finger. "Remember, leave when you are dismissed," he ordered, before knocking on Slughorn's door._

_Four hours and countless crystallized pineapples later, the clock chimed eleven times. "Good gracious, is it that time already?" Slughorn exclaimed. "You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want that essay by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."_

_The group of Slytherins slowly made their way out of the room, many of them smirking at Tom as they left. He coolly raised an eyebrow at them._

_When Slughorn turned around, he noticed Tom was still present. He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…"_

" _Sir, I wanted to ask you something," the young Slytherin asked hesitantly. His eyes were fixed on the crackling fire in one corner._

" _Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…" Slughorn said. He cast a regretful look at the now-empty box of pineapple before Vanishing it._

_Tom looked up, and their eyes met. "Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes?"_

* * *

"Are you guys sure you haven't seen my necklace?" Tabitha asked hopelessly, dropping back down onto her bed. "I had it just this morning."

Heidi, Adrianna and Fiona all shook their heads. Danielle pretended to be absorbed in picking at a loose thread on her bedspread.

Tabitha let out an agonized groan. "I'm dead."

_Say hi to my Mum and Dad, then will you?_ Danielle thought bitterly. The Time-Turner pressed guiltily against her thigh as she shifted positions. It was horrible, lying to one of her best friends. She wondered if she was a true Slytherin after all.

"Ugh," Adrianna complained as she pulled out her hairbrush. "Rachel's been using my stuff _again_. I've told her so many times not to touch my things."

"Can I use your brush?" Danielle asked suddenly.

The other girl gave her a strange look but obliged. "You might as well. It's already ruined by my stupid sister's hair," she grumbled. "That's gonna take forever to get out."

Danielle pretended to drag Adrianna's brush through her hair several times before surreptitiously grabbing an unfamiliar blonde strand from it. She quickly pocketed the lock, making sure no one was watching her.

"Rachel was a Hufflepuff, right, Adrianna?" she asked casually as she tossed the brush back.

Adrianna nodded, looking sour. "She graduated last year. Head Girl. You met her once, didn't you? Long blonde hair, blue eyes. She works at a wizarding orphanage now…"

Fiona and Heidi exchanged glances before looking away. Danielle fought the urge to laugh humourlessly. When her roommates had come back to the dormitory she had finally told them about her parents' death. The girls had apologized but quickly changed the subject in an attempt to make Danielle forget about it. So far, it wasn't working.

"What did you need that necklace for anyway, Tabby?" Heidi asked.

Tabitha's eyes widened. "It was a…a gift," she stammered.

Danielle watched her friend lie with a sinking feeling in her chest. A hundred emotions—grief, remorse, regret and guilt being the main ones—were swirling around inside of her sickeningly. She couldn't stand being in the same room with Tabitha any longer; she would surely break. "I'm going to take a walk," she said abruptly, standing up.

The other girls didn't question her; they probably figured she wanted to be by herself. Danielle left the room mechanically and then hurried down the stairs and out of the common room. She had had some more time to think about her plan in the past hour. It would be extremely risky and the consequences would be severe, but it was her only hope.

Ten minutes later, she reached the Potions classroom and glanced around. There was a Slytherin couple snogging in the dungeon hallway but nobody else. Danielle slipped into the classroom and tiptoed towards the cupboard at the back where Slughorn kept all of his potions.

Honestly, for such a supposedly intelligent teacher he really didn't have very good security. Danielle opened the lock to the cupboard with a simple _Alohomora_ and rooted around for the bottle she was looking for. After five minutes of searching she found it: a tiny vial of mud-coloured liquid labeled _Polyjuice Potion._

Danielle could hardly believe her luck as she uncorked the bottle and reached into her pocket for Rachel's hair. After a moment of hesitation she dropped the hair inside and watched as the potion turned a bright magenta colour.

Her plan was working perfectly so far. Now there was only one more hitch.

Danielle stuffed the vial back into her robes and hurried to find Andy.


	39. Captured

" _Riddle, Tom!"_

_A cheer went up from the assembled seventh-year students as the tall, black-haired boy stood up to collect his diploma. He shook Dippet's hand, smiled as he passed the teachers, and then went to sit down again._

_So that was it. A mere ten seconds had gone by and Tom Riddle was no longer a Hogwarts pupil. Dumbledore could no longer keep an eye on him; could no longer instruct Madam Cutteridge to prepare healing potions for him. He was on his own._

_To be fair, he looked quite healthy despite only having a year and a half left to live. The colour had come back into his skin and Dumbledore rarely caught the flash of red in his eyes again. This was pleasing news; perhaps he had found a cure on his own. Dumbledore wouldn't put it past him; Tom was the most brilliant student to pass through Hogwarts for many years._

_But he couldn't deny something else was unsettling about the boy. There had been several incidents since Clara's disappearance…Dumbledore had never raised his suspicions to Dippet, but he strongly suspected Tom was behind them._

_As if sensing his thoughts, the boy's gaze lingered on Dumbledore. For a split second Albus thought Tom might attack him, but the moment passed and he turned back to the front._

_There was a loud giggle from the front row and Alyssa MacDougal, with her fiancé Alphard Black on her arm, pushed past Olive Hornby rudely. "So sorry," the red-haired girl said while Alphard looked exasperated. "I didn't see you there."_

_Olive merely glared at her long-time enemy. When her son had been been born a year ago, he had disappeared without a trace. There were many theories as to what had happened to him. Nonetheless, Olive and Abraxas had never spoken to each other again. Albus felt a wave of sadness as he looked at the faded, broken girl._

_Next to Olive was Alyssa's twin Dylan. It was publicly known that he had fallen in love with a Muggle girl, but his parents had forced him to court and then eventually propose to a wealthy Irish pureblood named Colleen O'Doherty. Their wedding was to be that December, a week after Alyssa and Alphard's._

_Albus surveyed the graduating seventh-years. Most had looks of excitement on their faces, but Tom Riddle and his group of friends were the only stoic ones. Albus wondered how long it would be before one of them finally showed their true colours._

* * *

Danielle found her brother wandering around the second floor, looking lost. "Andy!" she called, running towards him. "I have a plan!"

He turned to her, his eyes hooded. "What are you talking about?"

Danielle grabbed his arm and pulled him into the nearest room, which funnily enough happened to be Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Luckily, there was no sign of the ghost anywhere. "I have this," she told him, holding up the vial of Polyjuice Potion. "And I got a hair from Adrianna's sister. All we need to do now is find a hair from a boy—"

"Danielle, stop," Andy told her. "What the hell are you playing at? Why do you want to take Polyjuice Potion?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Time-Turner. "We'll disguise ourselves and go somewhere, anywhere, else. We can save Mum and Dad, Andy. We can do _anything._ " _We can go back to 1943…_

Her brother's jaw dropped. "Where did you get that?"

"I'll explain later," Danielle said. "Yaxley and Selwyn are coming for us. Hogwarts is in danger. We can escape—"

"Escape so that the Death Eaters have a chance to kill more people while they look for us?" Andy demanded. "No. We've got to go to McGonagall and ask her to move us somewhere else."

"Andy, come on," Danielle begged. She felt the control she had built up over the past two hours slowly start to disappear. "If we're disguised, they won't have a hope of finding us."

"So what you're saying is you want to pretend to be normal students while they kill every person who doesn't know where we are?" Andy said, voice rising. "Don't you understand, Danielle? These are _Death Eaters_ we're talking about. They—"

"I KNOW WHAT A BLOODY DEATH EATER IS!" Danielle screamed. "IF WE GO BACK IN TIME, WE CAN STOP THEM FROM EVER BREAKING OUT OF AZKABAN!"

"I thought you were supposed to be _smart_ ," Andy snapped. "Even I know that messing around with a Time-Turner is stupid! What if we erase our future selves, huh? What will we do then?"

"I don't think that will happen!" she yelled. "I just spent seven months in the year 1943! Andy, I found a Time-Turner on our front lawn and I accidentally sent myself back in time! Why do you think I lost it just before we came to Hogwarts?"

Her brother staggered back, looking disgusted. "You expect me to believe _that_?"

"Yes," Danielle begged. "Please listen to me. We can go to any date you want. Your birthday…our holiday to France…even the Battle of Hogwarts!" She turned the knobs to each date she listed in turn. "The other students aren't in danger. If we go back in time, we can stop this—"

"If we go back in time, the future will still be happening," Andy retorted. "I don't know about you, but I'm not letting anyone else die for me. Either we go into hiding and let McGonagall tell the Death Eaters that we're not at Hogwarts, or I die myself."

"NO!" Danielle said. She had a childish urge to stomp her foot. Her head was spinning and her heart was throbbing in pain and she was so incredibly tired…"Just follow along with me for once, Andy. _Please_."

He slowly shook his head. "No, Danielle. Don't you remember? You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

The quote stirred a vague memory from a Muggle movie he had dragged her to see years ago. Of course he would think that. _Of course._ Andy gave her one last pitying look before turning around and walking away.

When he was gone, Danielle turned to the nearest mirror and punched it as hard as she could. The glass shattered and a searing pain shot through her hand. Blood dripped to the ground, but she didn't care.

"I know who you are now… _Clara_ ," a voice said from behind her. Through the last bit of mirror still intact, Danielle saw Myrtle floating behind her. The ghost had a small, sad smile on her face.

"I'm really not in the mood to chat, Myrtle," Danielle hissed.

She looked insulted. "I was just going to tell you that there are towels over there. But of course, no one cares about wretched, weepy Myrtle."

Normally Danielle would have tried to comfort her, but the pain in her hand was almost unbearable. She hurried over to the rack of towels and wrapped her hand in one, watching as the white fabric slowly turned a crimson red. Her vision was blurry with tears.

"He's gone downstairs, you know," Myrtle said from behind her. "I would follow him if I were you."

Danielle stared at her pale, haggard reflection. She looked like a vampire. "Maybe I will," she said. "I'm his older sister. He has to listen to me. Even if I have to force him to. Even if I have to become the villain."

* * *

Andy was almost at the front doors when Danielle caught up to him. "Look," she said, grabbing her brother by the shoulder and turning him around. "I'm your only family member left, and I'm older than you. That means you have to listen to me—"

"No, it doesn't," Andy said. "Go away, Danielle. Go save yourself. I'm not as much of a coward."

"Stupid bloody Gryffindors," she jeered. "Listen—we have to get out of Hogwarts _now._ I don't know how much time we have before the Death Eaters get here."

"Actually, you have no time at all," a voice drawled from behind her. The two siblings turned to see a group of Slytherins standing behind them, blocking their path. Danielle recognized them as the seventh-years she had seen down by the lake with Teddy earlier that day.

Andy pulled out his wand. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, my father is a close friend of Selwyn's, you see," the Slytherin boy said, taking a step closer to them. "I was most interested when I heard Little Miss Prefect talking about the fact that he was after her. So, I contacted my father, who in turn, contacted Selwyn." He smirked. "I do believe there are two men who are just _dying_ to see you."

" _Expelliarmus_!" Andy called, but one of the Slytherins was faster. He sent a jet of red light flying at Andy, who was instantly Stunned. Danielle caught her brother as he fell to the ground.

"And as for you, Prefect girl, you're next," the first boy said. Danielle raised her wand, but she was no match for a group of five seventh-years. The last thing she saw was another jet of red light shooting towards her before everything went black.

* * *

Her head was pounding horribly and every inch of her body ached. Danielle slowly came to, remembering what happened little by little. She was lying on an uncomfortable, hard surface. A musty, thick smell reached her nose.

"The girl's waking up," a rough voice said from above her. Something kicked her arm.

Danielle groaned and opened her eyes. She was facedown on a cold wood floor that reeked of dirt and disuse. The room was small and dark, with no windows and only one small door.

In the opposite corner, she saw Andy tied to the wall, bound and gagged. His eyes bulged and he made frantic movements with his hands when she looked at him.

A hand slapped him hard across his face. "That's enough from you," a male voice snapped.

It was only then Danielle noticed there were two other people in the room. Both were male and looked to be in their thirties, with unkempt appearances and wild eyes. One of them stood over Andy; the other over her. She recognized their faces immediately: Yaxley and Selwyn.

They had been caught.

"Well, well, well," Yaxley, who was Danielle's guard, said as he stood over her. "We've been waiting for you, my dear. We decided we'd be merciful and wait until you woke up of your own accord before starting on you."

"How did you find us?" she asked, attempting to sit up. "Where are we?"

Yaxley shoved her back down onto the floor. "You ought to be more careful with your words," he spat. "People could accidentally… _overhear_ something, you know what I mean? As for your other question, we're in the Shrieking Shack. It's close enough so that you could be transported here easily, but not too close so that the teachers would think of looking for you here."

"Danielle, I'm sorry," Andy croaked. "I told Teddy about it…the Slytherins overheard _him_ …"

"Shut up!" Selwyn said. "Yaxley, can we start on them now?"

A small smile appeared on the other Death Eater's face. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I think we can."

"McGonagall will catch you," Danielle said. "She'll find out—"

"Oh, but she hasn't caught us _yet_ , sweetheart," Yaxley replied. "Besides, when the news of your deaths does reach her, you won't be around to give testimonies now, will you?"

As he pulled out his wand, Danielle reached into her robes. She almost cried with relief when she felt the Polyjuice Potion and the Time-Turner still carefully tucked away. Now all she had to do was get Andy…

There was a muffled yell from the other side of the room and Danielle saw that Andy had kicked Selwyn in the ribs. He'd somehow managed to untie himself from the wall and had his wand out.

" _Stupe_ —" he started to say, but hadn't even managed to say the entire word before Selwyn rounded on him, fury in his eyes. And Danielle knew what was going to happen before he did.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" the Death Eater yelled. There was a flash of green light and a rushing sound. Andy collapsed to the floor and Danielle was screaming, screaming—

"SHUT UP!" Yaxley roared. " _Silencio_!"

Danielle's speech was immediately cut off, but her mouth still formed silent shrieks and curses. It had not happened, it _couldn't_ have happened. Andy was _not_ dead, he was just unconscious.

"How many times have I told you not to kill them right away?" Yaxley demanded. "Now he's useless."

"Sorry," Selwyn muttered.

"Do something about that, would you?" Yaxley asked, waving a careless hand in the direction of Andy's body. "I'll take the girl and show you how it's _really_ done."

Selwyn unceremoniously grabbed Andy's limp form and dragged him toward the door. _No_! Danielle silently screamed. She lunged in the direction of the only exit, but Yaxley stopped her. " _Crucio!"_ he demanded.

Then all there was was _pain_. It was agony, it was torture. Danielle was writhing on the floor screaming for agony, begging for death, praying that Selwyn would come back in and kill her like he had just killed her brother—

Then the spell lifted and Danielle was left panting and staring up at Yaxley, her arms wrapped around herself and tears pouring out of her eyes. He must have lifted the Silencing Spell. The towel had fallen off of her hand long ago and the jagged cuts had started bleeding again.

"That's it," Yaxley said softly. "Keep groveling and maybe I shall be merciful. Your brother was lucky, wasn't he?"

With shaking fingers Danielle slowly reached into her robes. Her mind was a mess of confusion and terror, but there _was_ one thing she could do. Just as her fingers closed around the slim glass ball that was the _Vita Servo_ Yaxley spat another curse at her.

The Cruciatus Curse was just as painful the second time. All thoughts of escape vanished from Danielle's mind as she writhed on the floor again, screaming with agony. Yaxley let it go for longer this time, and she was almost at the point of fainting when he finally lifted it.

"You're not going to last long," he said quietly as he stared down at her. "Your parents were far braver than you."

"You sick bastard," Danielle muttered. She plunged her hand into her robes again, but this time it was the Time-Turner that she found. What date was it last on? Danielle tugged the tiny handle back as far as it could go.

"What is that?" Yaxley spat, momentarily surprised. That moment, Danielle was sure, saved her life. "Is that a—"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence, because Danielle felt the now-familiar tug in her stomach and everything turned into a blur. The last thing she saw was Yaxley's face full of fury as he advanced on the spot where she had vanished.


	40. From Bad to Worse

Everything was shaking. That wasn't normal. Why hadn't the spinning stopped? Surely it didn't take this long to time-travel…had she done something wrong?

Exhausted and reeling in shock, trembling so hard she could barely move, Danielle opened her eyes. She was standing in a now-deserted Shrieking Shack. Other than the dim light emanating from her wand, it was pitch black.

It took her a while to realize that _she_ was the one shaking. Danielle took deep, calming breaths and tried to erase her the past hour from her mind. So far, it wasn't working.

"It's fine. You're safe. You're alive," she told herself out loud as she took a cautious step forward. "It will be all right."

When her head had cleared enough for her to think straight, she held up the Time-Turner. She had no idea what date it was or what year it was. She could be in the _future_ for all she knew.

The tiny black numbers on the Time-Turner were difficult to make out in the light. Danielle squinted hard, and as she read the date her breath stopped.

_02/05/1998_

Of course. It was the last day she had turned it to, when she was showing it to Andy. Today was the Battle of Hogwarts. Or more precisely, _tonight_ was the Battle of Hogwarts.

No sooner than had Danielle thought this when she heard footsteps in the distance. She yelped quietly and the Time-Turner slipped from her grasp. "No, no, no, please…" she moaned. _There's got to be somewhere I can hide._

She didn't have the Invisibility Cloak, but she _did_ have magic. " _Abscondo!_ " she murmured. The familiar feeling she was being doused in liquid swept over her. When she looked down at herself, she was invisible. Her Disillusionment Charm had worked.

Meanwhile, the footsteps were getting closer. It sounded as if someone was coming up the stairs. She had to get out of there, and fast.

Danielle whirled around to see that the Time-Turner had rolled across the floor and was now lying in a pile of rubble in the corner. There was no way she would have time to salvage it. With another quick incantation, she managed to Transfigure it into another piece of rubble. It was a very poor job—obvious if one were to look closely enough—but there was nothing else she could do.

Danielle hurried out of the room onto a small landing. There was a staircase just below her, and a tiny nook below the stairs. Praying her legs wouldn't collapse under her, she leapt over the banister and to her relief, landed safely on the floor below.

She dove at once into the alcove, keeping one hand on the _Vito Servo_ and the other on her wand as the footsteps thundered above her. Whoever it was was going into the room she had just left.

Danielle's heart was pounding so loudly she was sure the intruder could hear it. There were creaking sounds as the person paced across the floor above her. She wondered what would possibly cause them so much agitation. The battle was happening at the castle, wasn't it? They were safe here, weren't they?

There was sudden silence as the footsteps stopped pacing. A strange cold washed over her, and she involuntarily shivered.

Her unconscious mind knew what had happened; knew who had just arrived, before she did. "My Lord," croaked an unfamiliar voice. "My Lord…please…my son…"

"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault," a high-pitched, cold voice replied. "He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?"

"No—never," Lucius Malfoy whispered.

"You must hope not." The hatred in the voice alone would have sent grown wizards running for cover.

"Aren't—aren't you afraid, my Lord, that Potter might die at another hand but yours?" Malfoy continued. "Wouldn't it be…forgive me…more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle and seek him y—yourself?"

"Do not pretend, Lucius," Voldemort hissed. "You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what has happened to your son. And I do not need to seek Potter. Before the night is out, Potter will have come to find me."

Danielle was concentrating hard on not vomiting. If she so much as made a noise—if she so much as moved one inch—

"Go and fetch Snape," Voldemort demanded.

There was a short pause. "Snape, m—my Lord?"

"Snape. Now. I need him. There is a—service—I require from him. Go."

There was a scrambling noise and Malfoy skidded out of the room. Danielle could hear his footsteps slipping and sliding on the stairs, sending sawdust flying everywhere. She didn't dare sneeze as the footfalls grew fainter and fainter until they were gone.

She was alone with Voldemort. Her Time-Turner was still upstairs. Danielle shut her eyes and prayed that he wouldn't notice, _he wouldn't notice…_

The passage of time that followed was quite possibly the worst of her life. Danielle stayed curled up in the position she was in, ignoring her cramped muscles and her fatigued brain...she just had to wait until Voldemort left and she would go get the Time-Turner…

At first she thought it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but eventually she heard footsteps in the distance again. These weren't the hurried, nervous strides of Lucius Malfoy, but even and determined. Danielle cowered as they marched up the stairs and into the room where Voldemort waited. "Ah…Severus…" she heard him say. With a sickening jolt, she realized what Voldemort had wanted him for…what he was planning to do…

Snape and Voldemort were speaking, but the ringing in Danielle's ears was growing too loud. She was attempting to calm down again—hope was not lost; no, all she had to do was wait…The same thoughts ran round and round her head like a toy train that refused to stop. She was hopeless to do anything other than try to ignore them.

A muffled yell broke her concentration. Danielle jerked in surprise. There was a hissing sound and then an awful scream. "I regret it," Voldemort said, but there was no remorse in his voice. He had killed Snape.

To make matters even worse, he was heading straight for her. Danielle's head spun crazily as light footsteps came down the stairs and paused at the bottom. He was barely two feet from her. Voldemort. Tom. What would he do if he found her now?

There was a brief period of blackness as Danielle fainted. When she came to, Voldemort had disappeared and all was silent. Raising her wand infinitesimally, she breathed, " _Homenum revelio_!"

Nothing happened. She was the only living thing in the Shrieking Shack.

Danielle reached into her robes and pulled out the vial of Polyjuice Potion. Praying she would be able to drink it without vomiting, she uncorked the top and drowned it in one.

The taste was absolutely revolting. She gagged as the liquid slowly slid down her throat, but refused to let it come back up. There was too much riding on this for her to give in to her impulses.

As soon as the potion hit her stomach, she gasped. A great shudder coursed throughout her and she doubled over. Her skin was rippling and changing before her eyes. She felt her face warp and twist as her legs grew several inches. Curly hair turned into straight; black turned into blonde. Danielle wished she could escape from her own mind as easily as she could escape from her own body.

When the change was complete, she looked down at herself. Rachel was tall and willowy, with long blonde hair and light blue eyes. Danielle muttered a spell and the blue on her robes turned to yellow; the raven turned into a badger. Of course, the Transfiguration wasn't as good as she had hoped—the badger had wings and her robes were an odd greenish color—but as long as anyone didn't look too closely, it would be fine.

Danielle crawled out of her hiding place and lifted the Disillusionment Charm. She ran up the staircase and back into the main room, cringing at the pool of crimson staining the floor. Severus Snape lay crumpled on the wooden floor surrounded by a pool of blood. His dark eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

She tried hard not to look at the dead man as she made straight for the corner where she had dropped the Time-Turner. It should be easy to spot—it was poorly disguised in the first place—but there was no sign of it anywhere.

Danielle dropped to her knees, sloshing a little in the blood. Her heart began pounding as she searched through the rubble. The misshapen rock was gone.

Someone had to have taken it. Was it Lucius? Snape? Or…Voldemort? Danielle felt dizziness threaten to overcome her, but she forced it away. She couldn't afford to faint just now.

" _Accio Time-Turner_!" she said, but this yielded nothing. Wherever it was, it was definitely not in the Shrieking Shack.

A bright flash of light illuminated the room, and there was a distant bang. Danielle turned her head toward the window as she listened to the sounds of the battle in the distance.

There was only one place she could go now. If she was killed trying to find the Time-Turner, so be it. Death would probably be a blessing considering her current situation.

* * *

" _Did you know Alphard means 'the solitary one'?" Alyssa asked her fiancé. "Was that a subtle clue from your parents?"_

_Alphard shrugged. "Blacks have a tradition of naming their children oddly; as I'm sure you've noticed."_

_Alyssa grinned at him. "What are we going to name_ our _child? In case you've forgotten, in a week my name will be Alyssa Black."_

_His eyes widened. "No, I haven't forgotten."_

" _You're avoiding the question," she teased him. "I'm hoping to have a child before Dylan does."_

_It was the winter of 1946. Alyssa and Alphard were due to be married the next week; Dylan and Colleen the week after. It was obvious there was no love between the latter couple, but the adults barely acknowledged this. Once a baby arrived, the new parents would be too busy concentrating on it rather than each other._

" _Yes, well, we'll see," Alphard mumbled. He grabbed Alyssa's hand and pulled her to her feet. "What do you say about going to the Malfoys' Christmas party next week? Walburga and Orion are coming."_

_Alyssa made a face. "I suppose I'll have to," she sighed._

_Alphard smiled and leaned toward her for a kiss. "I'd better go now, or else Mother will be worried. It took me ages to convince her that we didn't need a chaperone, you know."_

" _Fine," Alyssa sighed. She watched as her fiancé stepped into the fireplace. "See you tomorrow?"_

" _I'll be over," he promised, giving her a wave before the flames swallowed him up._

_At that moment, there was a sharp rap on the door. Alyssa went to answer it, and her mouth dropped open when she saw who was outside._

_She hadn't seen Tom Riddle since they'd graduated from Hogwarts a year and a half ago. He'd been intimidating then; he was terrifying now._

_His features seemed oddly blurred and misshapen. He was still dizzyingly handsome and deathly pale. Alyssa's eyes traveled up his tall frame until she reached his eyes._

_They were red._

" _Good day, Miss MacDougal," he greeted her calmly. Was it just her, or was his voice not as deep as it normally was?_

" _T-Tom," she stammered. "What are you doing here?"_

" _I wanted to congratulate you," he answered. "I understand you are to be married next week?"_

" _Yes." There was something about the look in his eyes that unnerved her. She reached for her wand, but it was gone._

_Tom took a step forward into the foyer. "Forgive me, Miss MacDougal, but I am afraid that I must do this."_

" _Do what?" Alyssa asked, confused._

 _He raised his wand. "You know too much._ Avada Kedavra!"

_Alyssa didn't even have time to blink before she fell to the ground. Her mouth was still open in a round O of surprise._

_Tom's face showed no expression as he stepped over her body into the main house. He had chosen his arrival carefully: the elder MacDougals were out and the housekeeping staff was at the other end of the mansion. The only people around were the twins._

_Dylan came running down the stairs two at a time after hearing the commotion. "What the bloody—Riddle!"_

" _Hello, Mr MacDougal," Tom greeted him. "It appears your sister has had an unfortunate incident."_

_Dylan looked from Alyssa's crumped form to Riddle. He put two and two together at once. "You bastard!" he screamed, drawing out his wand._

_But Tom was too fast for him. "You are lucky I am not dealing with your fiancés as well. Lord Voldemort is merciful."_

" _So you_ are _calling yourself that, then," Dylan said. "Humour me then,_ Voldemort. _Why aren't you killing Alphard or Colleen?"_

" _It would look rather suspicious if Miss O'Doherty was found dead as well, would it not?" Tom drawled. "As for Mr Black, I fear that his family would no longer pledge allegiance to me. He will know who did it, of course, but who will listen to his accusations? Tom Riddle will have disappeared."_

" _At least let me put up a fight, you coward!" Dylan spat._

" _Defiance will not get you anywhere," Tom said, the ghost of a sneer on his face. "_ Avada Kedavra! _"_

_This time, it was Dylan's turn to fall to the floor. He tumbled down the steps until he came to a halt at Tom's feet. Tom kicked his body carelessly aside and retrieved his wand._

" _Now," he mused to himself, twirling his wand in his fingers, "I shall see who is truly foolish enough to challenge Lord Voldemort."_

* * *

It took Danielle half an hour to make her way up to the castle. Anguish pierced her like a knife with every step she took. It seemed incredible that she hadn't slept at all since receiving the news that her parents were dead. She felt like a zombie.

Tom's face taunted her every time she closed her eyes. He was smirking in that way she knew so well, trying to provoke her. He would say, "Life is cruelly ironic. Would you not agree with that, Clara?" and she would snap back a sarcastic retort. Then maybe, if she was lucky, she would get to see that rare flash of emotion on his face.

As she got closer to the castle, the yells and flashes of light got closer. Danielle had her wand at the ready, prepared to enter into battle. She was no match for any of the Death Eaters, but she wouldn't go down without a fight.

The courtyard was completely destroyed and huge chunks were ripped out of the exterior walls. Danielle felt her heart contract as she saw Hogwarts being destroyed right in front of her eyes. How in the name of Merlin had they managed to rebuild the castle after this?

Luckily, she encountered no one until she got to the Entrance Hall. Throngs of black-cloaked Death Eaters were locked in close combat with members of the Order of the Phoenix and Hogwarts students. Danielle quickly cast a Shield Charm over herself as she dodged the spells flying from all directions and places. She had to get to Ravenclaw Tower, for she knew of one being who would be able to give her the answers she needed.

"Caught you!" a voice sang from behind her. Danielle whirled around to see that her Shield Charm had broken and she was completely vulnerable. A younger Yaxley stood before her, grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't know who she really was; all he saw was a terrified Hufflepuff seventh-year.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Danielle cried. Yaxley easily dodged her spell and sent a jet of purple light flying at her. She narrowly managed to deflect it.

"Need help?" a voice called in her ear. She glanced up to see a tall blond Gryffindor boy streaked with blood and dirt standing beside her.

"Yes, please," Danielle gasped. The boy smiled and began dueling in earnest with Yaxley, who growled in anger as his target slipped away.

She would have to find some way to repay Neville Longbottom later. Giving her savior a quick "thank you", Danielle managed to pass unnoticed through the rest of the fighting crowd and onto the Grand Staircase. She recast her Shield Charm as she ran up the numerous flights of stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, realizing too late that she was disguised as a Hufflepuff. Oh well. As long as she knew the answer to the riddle, she would be safe.

But it turned out to be easier than that. When Danielle reached the entrance to the common room, she discovered that the door had been blasted right off its hinges and the room was exposed. Feeling worried, she hurried into the trashed area. Couches and tables were overturned and the curtains on the windows were ripped. It sickened her to see Ravenclaw Tower in such a state.

"Hello?" Danielle called, stopping in the middle of the room. "Helena Ravenclaw, are you there?"

The ghost might be reclusive and unfriendly, but she always came when she was called. Danielle felt a blistering cold pass through her chest and found herself staring at the pearly white form of Tom's ancestor.

"What do you want?" Helena asked coldly. "Hufflepuffs aren't allowed here."

"I'm not a Hufflepuff, though," she desperately replied. "I used Polyjuice Potion. I'm really Danielle Bailey and I'm not supposed to attend Hogwarts for another nine years."

"You expect me to believe that?" the ghost challenged.

"Yes! I'm a time traveler. I was trapped back in 1943 for a while. I'm Clara Ashford. I asked you about your mother's diadem and you told me the story."

Helena coolly appraised her. "What did I say?"

"You married a man who was burdened with a terrible curse. When you became pregnant, your husband wanted you to get rid of the baby. You escaped to Albania, where your husband found you when your son was three years old. The Bloody Baron killed you and your son died when he was nineteen," Danielle's tone was escalating into panic.

Helena looked surprised. "I've only ever told six students that," she said. "What do you want, Danielle Bailey?"

"I need to find a Time-Turner," Danielle begged. "Does Hogwarts have any?"

The Grey Lady shook her head. "All but one of Britain's Time-Turners were destroyed in the Battle at the Department of Mysteries two years ago."

"Then where is the last one?"

" _He_ has it."

"Voldemort?"

Helena nodded. "He stole the last one so that no one could go back in time and prevent his rise to power."

Danielle gnashed her teeth angrily. "Do you know where he keeps it?"

"No, but rumor has it amongst the ghosts that he keeps it with him at all times." Helena looked at her with something like pity. "I do not know why you are here or why you are disguised, Danielle Bailey. But what I _do_ know is that if anyone can save him, it will be you."

Danielle barely paid attention to her last words. "Thank you," she told the ghost. "If all goes well, I shall see you in the past."

Helena gave her a short smile before turning away and drifting through one of the walls.

Sitting down heavily onto one of the only remaining upright chairs, Danielle stared out of the window into the darkness and thought. How was she to get close enough to Voldemort to be able to steal the Time-Turner? It didn't matter who had the new one now; she would make do with any one.

Danielle racked her brains for knowledge of the final battle. Judging by the events that were happening now, she should be approaching the beginning of a ceasefire. That was when Harry Potter would give himself up to Voldemort. When he had supposedly died, Voldemort had fallen unconscious as well…

"That's it!" she suddenly cried, jumping up out of the chair. While all of the Death Eaters were tending to their master, Danielle would try and seize the Time-Turner. It would be too risky to wait until Voldemort was dead. The only time when everyone would be completely off guard was when Harry gave himself up.

All of a sudden, the room echoed with a terrifying whisper. "You have fought…valiantly."

Danielle gasped and her heart took off as Voldemort's voice hissed in her ears. It took her a while to realize he wasn't in the common room with her, but speaking to the school as a whole by magically magnifying his voice. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a waste…Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately."

Danielle's knuckles turned white as she gripped the back of the chair. She wasn't just hearing his voice; the words were echoing in her very mind.

"…You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

Was he somewhere in the castle, or was he already in the Forbidden Forest?

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Danielle took a shaky breath as she straightened up. "Let's go, Tom," she whispered.


	41. It All Ends Here

Hogwarts was completely deserted. Not a soul greeted Danielle as she crept back downstairs from Ravenclaw Tower, wand held out in front of her. Voldemort had commanded his forces to retreat; but how could she be sure they would obey him?

Her watch read 3:23 A.M. She'd been in the past for approximately two hours, but it felt like much longer. Her body was starting to play tricks on her; a sure sign of exhaustion. But she couldn't stop. There was no time to waste. She could sleep all she wanted later.

 _Maybe in death,_ a cynical voice whispered. Danielle's grip tightened on her wand and she attempted to banish the thoughts away. She wouldn't give up—not after all she had gone though, damn it!

The doors to the Great Hall were slightly open and low voices drifted from the room. Danielle could smell food. Her stomach growled hungrily, but she ignored its pleas and marched on.

At the castle's front doors, she slipped into a dark corner and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself for the third time in her life. She was becoming quite adept at it, if she did say so herself.

Outside, the courtyard was bathed in a dim light. Danielle stepped over piles of rubble and—her stomach lurched—bodies. She kept her eyes on the ground so as not to accidentally trip.

After a minute of walking, she heard voices. Danielle stopped in her tracks and listened closely. It sounded like two teenage boys were having an earnest conversation.

"Harry!" a voice she recognized as Neville Longbottom's was saying worriedly. "Harry, you're not thinking of giving yourself up, are you?"

"No," the other voice replied. "Course not…this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake, Neville? He's got a huge snake…calls it Nagini…"

"I've heard, yeah…what about it?"

"It's got to be killed. Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they…" He stopped talking, and Danielle sympathized with him. If Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard were with her, she would be worried sick about them. "Just in case they're—busy—and you get the chance—"

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake."

"All right, Harry. You're OK, are you?" Neville asked. There was a hint of concern in his voice.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Neville." There was a pause and Danielle felt it safe to move again.

But she stopped just as quickly when she heard Neville speak. "We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"

"Yeah, I—" Harry broke off, and Danielle let out the breath she'd been holding. Her heart broke for him. She was walking to her death as well—figuratively at least.

When there had been complete silence for sixty seconds, she slowly began weaving her way in and out amongst the debris again. She was trying to think of something—anything—that didn't involve her current situation. Her parents, dead. Her grandparents, dead. Her brothers, dead. Tom, dead. The Tom Riddle she had fallen in love with was gone, that she was certain of.

It was a shorter walk to the Forbidden Forest than she had hoped. All too soon, she found herself on the outskirts of the looming trees, feeling the icy cold that was connected with Dementors. But Danielle was prepared this time. " _Expecto Patronum_!" she whispered, and a silver snake shot out of her wand and disappeared into the forest.

The icy feeling faded away, and she was safe to continue her journey. She wasn't worried about getting lost; there was a clear trail into the clearing where Voldemort waited. It would have to be approached from the back, though. She couldn't let anyone know she was coming.

Her heart briefly stopped beating when she heard voices in the distance. Danielle paused to gather her breath. She wasn't nervous; in fact she felt strangely calm. This must be what it felt like to have an out-of-body experience. She felt as if she were floating above the trees, seeing everything that was unfolding from a bird's-eye view. Strangely enough, it calmed rather than unsettled her.

Danielle resumed her walking again until she could see orange flames in the distance, and figures darting around it. If the Time-Turner was anywhere, it would be here. She raised her wand, voice breaking. " _Accio Time-Turner!"_

She had barely spoken above a whisper, but it felt like she was shouting. She expected an onslaught of curses flying at her and prepared herself, but nothing happened. The voices still murmured in the distance, but they didn't sound upset. The figures still moved around the fire.

Danielle had known it was an exceptionally stupid idea to cast a Summoning Charm on the Time-Turner, and she wasn't even sure herself why she had done it. Out of habit, perhaps? Mentally cursing herself, she took another step forward to hide in the shadow of a large tree. She would lie low until Harry came. Then, when the Death Eaters were sufficiently distracted, she would look for the Time-Turner in earnest.

Two small objects came hurtling at her. It was all she could do not to shriek in surprise as she was struck on the face and in the chest. There was a muffled thud as the objects hit the ground.

Warily, Danielle levitated them with her wand as to examine them more closely. One was thicker than the other, larger, and looked to have a dial on it. The other was smaller, lighter, and had several numbers displayed on the front.

 _The Time-Turners._ She had found them out of sheer, dumb luck.

So Voldemort _had_ discovered her poor Transfiguration job. Danielle couldn't believe it. Both Time-Turners looked to be in fairly good condition. They hadn't even been protected by a spell.

Other wizards might find it odd, but Danielle didn't. She knew Tom. In his arrogance and his haughtiness, he probably believed that nobody would even dare take something that Lord Voldemort owned. He was secure in thinking that nobody would be stupid enough to steal from him—it would be a suicide wish. It was so… _Tom._

Danielle almost laughed. Then she realized where she was and the dangerous situation was in. Her smile disappeared and she quickly stuffed the older Time-Turner into her robes. She would figure out what to do with it later. Now all she had to do was program the new Time-Turner.

She entered the date _15/04/1943_ and pulled the necklace over her head. She felt unsettled, though. Something wasn't right. It had been easy… _too_ easy…

Her suspicions were confirmed an instant later when she felt a wand pressed to her throat. "We've got you," a voice cackled, and to her horror Danielle felt herself roughly pulled out of her hiding place and came face-to-face with at least ten Death Eaters.

" _So_ , beautiful," the one who had grabbed her said, shaking her shoulder roughly, "Care to tell us what a little girl like you is doing here with the Dark Lord's Time-Turners?"

"I'm not _little_ ," Danielle couldn't help but snap.

The men laughed. "She's not more than sixteen," another one said.

With a jolt of dread, Danielle realized that she had reverted back to her normal self with realizing it. She was out of Polyjuice Potion and had no way to disguise herself.

Someone kicked the back of her knees, causing her to fall to the ground. " _Crucio_!" a voice spat, and the familiar excruciating pain washed over her. She was screaming and screaming, not caring who heard.

"Stop," a shrill, icy voice commanded. The pain disappeared, and Danielle lay panting on the ground.

"She took your Time-Turners, my Lord," the man who had cursed her said. "You instructed us to—"

"Be quiet, Rookwood," Voldemort snapped. "Get up!" he said to her.

Heart in her throat, Danielle got to her feet. She was surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides, ten wands trained directly at her. But she barely noticed this: her eyes were fixed on Voldemort standing in front of her.

Tom and Voldemort were unrecognizable. Voldemort's skin was a stark white; he had slits for nostrils and his pupils had become vertically shaped. His hair was gone. The only similarity was the red eyes. Danielle watched him in horrified fascination.

His eyes locked onto hers, and a dull ache began to form in her head. He was using Legilimency on her and she was powerless to stop it. Danielle knew that he would kill her instantly if she attempted to use any form of resistance.

He was seeing it all: who she really was, how she had found the Time-Turner, the plans she and Dumbledore had made, her feelings for him, her return to the future, Yaxley's brutal murder of Andy, her plan to get back to the past…Danielle felt as if she was riveted to the spot as Voldemort's eyes burned even deeper into her thoughts. She felt a sudden jolt, as if what had once been wholly hers had been taken away.

"Leave," Voldemort suddenly hissed. Confused, Danielle tore her eyes away from him, only to realize he was talking to his Death Eaters. There were a few surprised murmurs, but one by one the black-cloaked figures disappeared until it was just her and Voldemort, standing feet away from each other.

He spoke first, running a long finger over his lips. "You have reappeared at a most… _inconvenient_ time. I have more important matters to deal with than the resurgence of an old schoolmate."

Danielle's hand twitched. She couldn't tell whether his tone was dangerous or simply sarcastic. "Can't you let me go?" she croaked.

His mouth curled upward in a mocking smile. "I would have guessed you did not _want_ to leave my side, Ashford. Your memories tell a different story."

He was making fun of her. Danielle felt irrational, angry tears build up in her eyes.

Voldemort's smile suddenly disappeared. He turned away from her, and she barely had a second to blink before her guards were upon her again. "Make one wrong move and you'll wish you were dead," a gruff male voice growled.

In defiance, Danielle moved one step to the side. The voice cursed and all of a sudden she felt herself tightly bound by invisible chains. Someone's wand was prodding her in the back.

"You are to explain to each and every one of us who you are, what you are doing here, and how you came to be here," Voldemort spoke, his back still turned. "My followers deserve to hear about you, wouldn't you say?"

In a last-ditch effort to escape, Danielle wrestled with the ropes that held her. She wasn't going to go down without a fight.

In an attempt to distract her, someone slowly ran a hand down her arm. She turned her head and spat on the perpetrator.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sweetheart," a new voice whispered. "It will only make everything more painful."

"I don't care," Danielle growled. "Just hurry up and kill me already, won't you?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Voldemort said. He turned back to her, and she felt her guards move away. "I have to receive some…information from you first."

He was pretending that he didn't know the truth. He really was going to make her narrate the entire story, humiliated. After she was finished, he would let the Death Eaters torture her before he finally finished her off…

"I will never tell you anything," Danielle hissed. She _would_ prove Yaxley wrong: she could be stronger than her parents.

"Well, that won't do, will it?" Voldemort said with a mock-disappointed tone, as if he was merely a parent scolding a child. "This must be done the hard way, then. Any last words?"

Danielle took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and visualized the one person she wanted to have an image of before she died. He was the most handsome thing in the world to her: he was smirking easily, and there was an expression of cold amusement on his face. He twirled his wand in his long fingers, as he so often did. And for a split second, Danielle was happy.

When she had conjured up a clear enough picture of Tom, she closed her eyes and looked up at Voldemort. "Kill me."

He looked down at her. His expression held no emotion. There was nothing in his eyes to suggest that some part of Tom Riddle still remained. "Very well," he said almost carelessly, turning his attention to the Death Eaters. "You can have her, but wait until Potter arrives."

As he drifted away, there was a scuffle as several of the men tried to grab her. They were soon quieted, however, as two figures hurried past them to get to Voldemort.

"No sign of him, my Lord," one of the figures said.

Danielle's captors appeared to have momentarily forgotten about her. Their eyes were fixed on the two Death Eaters that had rejoined them.

"My Lord—" a woman's voice said. Voldemort held up a hand, and she stopped in midsentence.

"I thought he would come," he said quietly, as if musing to himself. "I expected him to come."

There was now complete silence. Danielle felt sweat pouring off of her in buckets; if Harry didn't show up soon—

"I was, it seems, mistaken," Voldemort said, still in same musing tone.

There was a heartbeat of anticipation, then—"You weren't."

Danielle could have cried with relief as Harry Potter stepped into the clearing. There was a sudden uproar of noise as the Death Eaters began either gasping with surprise or laughing with glee.

"HARRY! NO!" a thundering voice called. Danielle squinted to where the sound had come from, and was surprised to see Rubeus Hagrid tied to a tree on the opposite end of the clearing. "NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH—"

"QUIET!" a Death Eater shouted, and Hagrid fell silent.

The air was so thick with tension it could be cut with a knife. Even Danielle's mind had gone temporarily blank as she stared at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry was staring bravely at Voldemort, back straight, while Voldemort observed Harry as if he were an interesting specimen he had observed at the zoo.

"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord said quietly. Danielle had to strain her ears to hear him. "The boy who lived."

Danielle knew what was going to happen next, and she prayed, for Harry's sake, that it would come soon—

She wasn't to be disappointed. Voldemort raised his wand. " _Avada Kedavra_!" he cried, and the two opponents collapsed to the ground as one.

In the uproar that followed, Danielle managed to wrench the iron bonds away from her. While all the Death Eaters rushed to a now-unconscious Voldemort's side, she plunged her hand into her robes. There was no time for her to use the Time-Turners. There was only one option left available to her, and Danielle knew without thinking that it was the right one.

She pulled the _Vito Servo_ out of her pocket, which was glowing bright red, and pressed it to her lips. Just as one of the Death Eaters figured out what she was doing and charged at her, she whispered, " _Help me_."

There was a bright flash of white light, and everything disappeared.


	42. Full Circle

She was surely dead. An unbearable, excruciating pain was all that existed.

So was this her eternal punishment? Wallowing in agony forever?

Death wasn't supposed to be painful.

Was it?

Danielle was lying flat on her back, loud gasps wheezing out of her mouth. Every part of her body hurt. For the longest time, she could do nothing but just stay motionless while the past eight hours of her life rushed back to her.

She had used the _Vita Servo_ …had it worked? Warily, Danielle opened her eyes. She was staring at bright lights twinkling above her. They hurt her eyes. It took several minutes to realize they were stars.

So she _was_ alive, after all. Dumbledore's gift had saved her.

When she had mustered up the strength to move, Danielle rolled over onto her side and pressed her face into the cool grass. She was still clutching the _Vita Servo_ in her left hand and her wand in the other.

Gingerly, she sat up and tested out her limbs. Everything seemed to be in working order. The _Vita Servo_ 's colour had faded entirely. Danielle knew that it was now, by all means, useless, but she pocketed the small object anyway.

To her astonishment, both Time-Turners were still intact as well. The Death Eaters hadn't managed to steal them back from her. Danielle was exhausted and worn beyond belief, but she knew there was one more thing she had to do before she gave in.

The _Vita Servo_ had transported her to her family's field, hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts. There was no house in sight, but Danielle knew that was because the Fidelius Charm was still keeping her parents safe.

Under wandlight, she changed the date on the new Time-Turner to _01/09/2011_ before turning the hour to _10:25._ Closing her eyes, she twisted the dial and let herself be pulled into the whirling vortex. Her body was nearing its limit; she was running on pure adrenaline now. If she didn't stop soon she would collapse.

When she opened her eyes the sun was shining brightly and her house stood proudly in the middle of the field. Danielle shielded herself with yet another Disillusionment Charm and made her way to the back door that she knew was unlocked. If she remembered correctly, her family would all be converged in the hallway arguing about Andy's wand.

There was nobody in the kitchen, but voices drifted from outside. Moving as fast as her fatigued body would allow, Danielle stuffed a bottle of water, a sandwich, and an apple into her robes and left the house just as quickly as she had entered it.

Once she was safely in the yard, she crept along the side of the house and around to the front. The door was half-open and she could see silhouettes through the window. Stopping the middle of the yard, Danielle took the old Time-Turner and dropped it into the grass. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

By the time her other self had come outside, owl cage in hand, the future Danielle had already retreated back into the woods and was peering out from behind a tree. She watched, wincing at the memory, as she tripped over the Time-Turner and rolled across the lawn. The owl cage bounced several times and Ophelia's angry hoots pierced the air.

Her past self groaned and sat up, brushing grass out of her hair and searching for the object she had tripped on. Danielle could hardly bear to watch as she picked up the Time-Turner and sat back on her heels, examining it closely. Part of her wanted to run out and scream a warning, but her logical side knew that would be extremely stupid.

The younger Danielle studied the Time-Turner for several minutes. "Come on, hurry up," her older counterpart whispered. "You can do it…come on…"

She was expecting the crash this time, but her younger self wasn't. As the loud noise echoed from inside the house, she gasped and Danielle distinctly saw her thumb jerk back on the Time-Turner's dial. She cringed as surprise flashed across the other girl's face. In an instant, she had disappeared.

Relief washed over Danielle. She quickly withdrew back into the woods and pulled out the newer Time-Turner. She was having trouble focusing now; everything was turning blurry. Her limbs were shaking. Hands trembling on the tiny dial, she managed to turn the date to _15/04/1943._ She barely noticed the world spinning around her. By the time she landed in the past, she had collapsed from sheer stress and exhaustion.

* * *

The sound of running water woke her up. Danielle opened her eyes, half-expecting to see herself in St. Mungo's being told that the past seven months was all a dream and she had merely suffered an extreme blow to the head.

But that wasn't the case. She was lying uncomfortably on a pile of dirt in the woods. The sun appeared to be setting overhead, colouring everything a brilliant red and gold. A small brook ran merrily beside her.

With numb fingers, Danielle fumbled for the Time-Turner. It still read _15/04/1943._ She had done it. She was back in the past.

When she had fully awakened, she sat up and splashed her face with cold water from the brook before attacking the food she'd taken from her house. Her stomach felt empty and hollow; she hadn't eaten for so long.

By the time she had eaten and calmed down, she had recovered somewhat. She was able to think more clearly about her situation.

She had left Albania in late evening. It was sunset here in Britain, and they were at least an hour behind, so it had to be approximately the time she'd left.

Danielle got to her feet and looped the Time-Turner around her neck. Dumbledore had said that he hadn't taken Tom back to Hogwarts for another day, so they should still safely be at the inn.

The inn…it seemed like she hadn't been there in years. It felt like part of another life. Actually, in a way, it _was_ part of another life.

Danielle mulled this over as she walked back the way she had come. The field was empty, a sure sign that she really _was_ back in the past.

There was no road yet leading to the highway yet, but Danielle knew the way so well she was able to walk through the wilderness by heart. Everything looked so different without the houses and civilization she was used to. It was much more peaceful. She resolved to live in the country when she grew up.

The sun set rapidly, and it was nightfall by the time she saw London's skyline in the distance. Danielle was so relieved she had made it that she almost forgot what year she was in. She had scarcely come within the city limits when the drone of distant planes reached her ears.

She began to jog, hoping to get shelter before the air raid started. By the time the bombs started to fall she had taken shelter under a small crevice in a hill similar to the one she and Tom had hidden in.

Luckily, the air raid was short and twenty minutes later she was back on her feet, keeping her eyes on London's now orange skyline. Even though it had been brief, it had done a lot of damage. Danielle felt herself deflate slightly as she watched the fires burn all over the city. This horror would go on for another two years. It was a miracle London wasn't completely obliterated.

It took Danielle longer than she expected to find the Leaky Cauldron. Many of the roads she would have normally used were blocked by fires and smouldering buildings. She was feeling exhausted again when she finally reached the pub.

The interior was completely deserted except for a smattering of people recovering from the air raid. Nobody seemed to notice Danielle as she stole over to the huge fireplace in the corner. Anyone was free to Floo anywhere from here. The Leaky Cauldron was famous for being the largest Floo base in Britain.

Danielle grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fire. "Druri Inn, Tirana!" she cried, and it wasn't long before the flames swallowed her up.

* * *

She tumbled out onto Kaltrina's fine Persian carpet, completely covered in soot. "Argh," Danielle groaned as she picked herself up. She coughed out several mouthfuls of ash and made a face.

The room was pitch black. Danielle looked down at her watch, but it was still in British time. Tirana was one hour ahead, right? If that was true, it had been four hours since her disappearance. It was just after midnight here.

After all she had just been through, it was hard to imagine she really _had_ made it back. It had been against all odds, but somehow…

Danielle let the thought trail off as another, more important one, crossed her mind. Tom was upstairs. She had been so concentrated on getting to this point she'd barely thought about how their "reunion" would go. Had Dumbledore told him she had left yet?

Hardly daring to breathe, Danielle hurried out of the drawing-room and up the stairs, wincing every time they creaked. She didn't want to wake the entire inn up and have to explain everything in front of twenty other people.

The door to Tom's—well, _her_ —room was closed. Danielle's heart caught in her throat as she crept toward it. She didn't know what to say, or what he would say.

But as she pondered, another voice came from behind her. "Miss Bailey?"

Danielle whirled around and saw Dumbledore standing at the next door. She almost started to cry. "Oh, _Professor_ ," she gasped. "I—I can explain. It's a long story."

"I daresay it is," he agreed, an inscrutable look in his eyes. He gestured toward his door. "Mr Riddle is asleep at the moment. However, I am quite awake."

The implication was clear. Casting a longing look at Tom's door, Danielle slunk into Dumbledore's room. She sat down on the bed and waited as the Transfiguration professor shut the door behind them. "When you're ready, Miss Bailey," he invited.

Danielle took a shaky breath before explaining everything that had happened to her since she had left. Her voice cracked as she told him about her parents' and Andy's deaths. Dumbledore put a comforting hand on her shoulder as she recited what Yaxley and Selwyn had said. When she came to the part about Voldemort, she hesitated and bit her lip.

"Go on, Miss Bailey," Dumbledore said. "I think I know what is coming anyway."

So Danielle nodded and told him about Tom turning into Voldemort. She recounted what he had told her in the Forest and her narrow escape. Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly when she came to the part about leaving the Time-Turner in the grass, but he didn't interrupt. Danielle's voice was hoarse when she finally finished.

"Well, Miss Bailey," the professor said. "I daresay you have been through enough in the past three weeks than most people have in their lifetime."

"Don't make me go back to the future again, please, Professor," Danielle begged. "My family will be gone—and I'll be killed…"

"I never said you would," Dumbledore interrupted. She fell silent, hope fighting to make an appearance. "But this is no light matter, Miss Bailey."

"At least let me see Tom one more time," Danielle pleaded. "Let me say goodbye to him. Please."

Dumbledore nodded, and she could have sworn she saw a small smile on his face. "It will not be goodbye, Miss Bailey. You are expecting the worst after all you have experienced."

"Not goodbye?" Danielle gasped. "What are you—"

"Hush," Dumbledore commanded. "It is far too late—or should I say early?—now to make any decisions. Go to sleep. I promise you will feel better in the morning."

Danielle obliged and lay down on the bed. Dumbledore stood up and prepared to leave the room. "Sleep will come easier than you think it will. Just close your eyes."

She tried to follow his instructions. Despite her alert mind, she fell asleep almost instantly. Even though she couldn't see him, knowing Tom was in the next room made her feel happier than she had in a very long time.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the window when she woke the next morning. Danielle felt blissfully sluggish and relaxed. She stretched and sat up, running her hands through her tangled hair. She was in dire need of a brush.

There was a light knock at the door and Dumbledore stuck his head in. "Ah, Miss Ashford, you're awake," he said pleasantly.

_Miss Ashford?_ Danielle frowned at him.

"We have much to discuss," he said. "However, I think that can wait. Mr Riddle is awake."

That was an invitation if Danielle had ever heard one. She immediately jumped out of bed, nearly stumbling over the sheets. "Sir," she managed to say on her way out, "when did I get back from Holland?"

Dumbledore smiled widely. "Shortly after midnight, I believe."

"All right." Danielle rushed past him into the hallway. He watched as she stopped in front of Tom's door.

Suddenly, she felt shy. This was what she had wanted for the past three weeks—and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Hesitantly, she raised a hand to knock.

There was no answer. Shifting from foot to foot, Danielle knocked again. Still Tom didn't respond. Her heart was beating madly in her chest. Casting a quick glance at Dumbledore, she grasped hold of the knob and opened the door.

Danielle wasn't sure how she would react. Her first sight was of her suitcase, still tucked in the corner where she had left it. The second thing was of a neatly made bed. A tall figure was sitting on it, head bent. Tom was twirling his wand in his fingers, as he so often did. His suitcase lay next to his feet.

As Danielle entered, he immediately rose. His eyes flashed with anger. "Hey, it's just me," she managed to say, holding her hands up.

He was caught off guard. "Dumbledore said you had left," Tom replied as he lowered his wand, suspicion evident in his tone.

It was all Danielle could do not to run over to him. "I—I did," she said. "But I came back."

"Why?"

"I had nowhere else to go. My aunt's funeral isn't for a while," Danielle clarified. "I Floo'd back here and arrived just after midnight."

Tom looked less suspicious, but still mistrustful. He seemed unsteady on his feet and appeared drained.

"Are you okay?" Danielle asked him, noticing his appearance for the first time. "Dumbledore tried to heal you as best he could. He said Madam Cutteridge has potions you can take—"

"I know," Tom said, cutting her off. He narrowed his eyes at her. "You look as if you have been through a war, Clara."

"You have no idea," she mumbled.

Tom searched her face carefully. "What did you see?"

"Everything," Danielle said. Suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. She crossed the room in two strides and collapsed against Tom, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened at first, but soon grabbed her chin and tilted it up toward him.

He surveyed her for another moment. The image of Andy falling to the ground and the cold look in Voldemort's eyes flashed into Danielle's mind. But that wasn't Tom.

To her shock, he lowered his face to hers and an instant later they were kissing. Danielle's mind was wiped blank of all thought as she automatically responded to his kiss. The heat radiating from his body warmed her and swept all the dark thoughts away. Her heart swelled, and she was happy again.

When they finally broke apart, Tom sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap. Danielle leaned her head against his shoulder. She could feel the pounding of his heart against his ribs. It was so… _human_ that it only enforced that notion that Voldemort had not been.

"I'm starting to wonder if you even deserve it, Tom," she murmured, "But I did it for you. All for you."

He looked confused. "I know you are lying to me about your aunt, Clara."

"Believe what you want," she whispered. "But you're welcome to come to her funeral."

Tom sighed. "What really happened? You are not a good liar."

"Of course I am," she giggled, twisting up to look at him. When he didn't smile back, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, Tom. Trust me."

He didn't answer. Danielle groaned and placed her hands on either side of his face. "You are so… _impossible_."

Before he could respond, she lightly kissed him again. "Your efforts to distract me are not working, Clara," he said, but at least he didn't sound angry. A tiny smirk played at his lips.

Danielle gently traced the shape of his face. "I'm not trying to distract you."

"You are a terrible liar," he repeated, but he let the matter drop… temporarily. Danielle knew that this wasn't the end of it. She would have to fabricate some other lie later.

But she _could_ pride herself on one thing: her distraction techniques had worked.

At least for the moment.


	43. Hogwarts Again

Dumbledore came in to see them some minutes later—or it might have been hours; Danielle wasn't keeping track of time. The moment he stepped inside the bedroom, Tom instantly tensed and all but shoved Danielle off of him, staring at the opposite wall. She gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, but he wasn't paying attention to her anymore.

"My apologies. I was not aware I was intruding on anything," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

 _Merlin,_ Danielle thought, _He notices everything._ "You weren't, Professor," she mumbled, finally tearing her gaze away from Tom and to Dumbledore, who was smiling at them.

"Are the both of you ready to go back to Hogwarts?" he asked kindly, pretending not to notice the scene he had interrupted.

"Yes," Tom answered shortly. "I understand it is reopening tomorrow?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The danger is past. You will have some time to relax before classes start again."

Danielle groaned. "Again? How will we be able to do our O.W.L.s when we've missed so much work, sir?"

The customary twinkle alighted in the professor's eyes. "I assume you will all need to work twice as hard."

She scowled.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were packed and standing on the lawn outside of the inn. Dumbledore had insisted they Apparate instead of using Floo Powder. Danielle decided she equally hated both forms of transportation, and would instead take a Muggle airplane any day.

"Take my arm," Dumbledore instructed them. Danielle inwardly laughed at the obvious disgust on Tom's face as he gripped Dumbledore's forearm. She wondered if he had ever Apparated before.

They turned on one heel and Danielle was pleased to find herself almost immune to the nasty sensation of being squeezed two-dimensionally. When they landed just outside of Hogwarts she righted herself immediately and grabbed her suitcase, ready to go.

But judging by his nauseous expression and slightly green complexion, Tom hadn't come off as lucky as she had. Danielle patted his arm. "It's okay," she told him. "You'll get used to it."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You mean you have Apparated before?"

"Only a few times," she admitted. "I've heard it's not as bad when you're doing it yourself, though."

Dumbledore led them back up to the castle, humming the school's theme song as he did. Danielle found herself humming along and giggled when she heard Tom's exasperated sigh.

Professor Dippet and Madam Cutteridge met them at the door. Dippet pulled out his wand, but Dumbledore shook his head. "It is fine, Armando. Tom is in control."

"I've prepared the potion," Madam Cutteridge said. "It took the better part of a week, but I believe I succeeded."

Tom clenched his jaw, displeased with the fact he would have to rely on potions to keep him acting "normal". "Shhh," Danielle whispered in his ear, ignoring him flinching away from her at their sudden close proximity in front of several professors. "It's for your own good, Tom. Just drink it."

"Miss Ashford!" Dippet exclaimed, looking surprised. "I knew you and Mr Riddle were close, but I had no idea—"

"Let them be, Armando," Dumbledore warned. "I daresay Miss Ashford is the best thing for Mr Riddle at the moment."

"Now, listen here, Albus!" blustered Dippet. "I'm keeping this boy at Hogwarts under probation. If he displays any more tendencies toward…whatever he is, he's being reported straight to the Ministry of Magic! I should have turned him in months ago…" Muttering to himself, he disappeared into the Great Hall.

Danielle saw Tom's hand clench into a fist. She couldn't blame him.

"If you'll come with me, Mr Riddle, we'll get you the potion," Madam Cutteridge said. Tom mutely followed her upstairs with only a momentary glance back at Danielle, who smiled anxiously at him and tried to hide her worry. When they had gone up the staircase, Dumbledore turned back to Danielle.

"Sir, how in the name of Merlin did you get Dippet and Madam Cutteridge to agree to this?" she couldn't help but ask.

He chuckled. "I like to think it was my natural charm, but I'm afraid it was just clever manipulation."

She grinned widely. "Thank you so much, sir. For everything."

"I wouldn't count my dragons before they hatch," Dumbledore cautioned. "But you are quite welcome."

* * *

When she was finally alone, Danielle found she had nothing else to do but think. After her moment of passion at the inn, she felt ashamed of what she had said to Tom. When she wasn't near him, it was easier to doubt herself. There was a terrible wave of guilt threatening to wash over her. She imagined the disappointment her parents and Andy would feel if they knew what had happened. And William…poor, poor William.

Danielle stared at her reflection in the lake, hating herself. The grey eyes that stared back at her were not the ones she had seen a year ago, or even a month ago. They were tired and haunted. They were an adult's eyes.

Had she managed to fix things, or had she just dug her own grave? It was impossible to tell. The incredible pressure Danielle felt on her shoulders weighed her down. She wanted to sleep—a dreamless, comfortable sleep was all she needed. But at the same time she was restless. She had to move or the nightmarish memories would consume her.

For the first time, she sat back and allowed herself to grieve.

* * *

It was under the beech tree bordering the lake that Tom found her, curled up into a ball. "Come with me," was all he said. It wasn't a suggestion.

Danielle stood up and dried her eyes. After her outburst at the inn, she wasn't sure if she could touch him again just yet.

Tom didn't seem to mind; he kept a comfortable distance between them as they slowly circled the lake and then headed for a path that went into the Forbidden Forest.

"Why are we going in here?" Danielle asked warily.

Tom turned back to look at her. The sun cast an odd shadow on his figure so that he was half in light and half in darkness. "Trust me, Clara," he said.

It was completely backwards to everything she had just gone through, but Danielle followed him anyway. He led her down the winding path, through thickets of trees and over small hills.

She saw the clearing before he appeared to, though Danielle was sure he was just humouring her. "Oh!" she gasped.

They were in a small glen at the base of a mountain. Though the ground was muddy and the grass was wet, it was still surreal. Wildflowers grew freely wherever they could. The mountain range that surrounded Hogwarts loomed above them, forbidding yet protective.

"Where is this?" Danielle finally asked when she had drunk it all in.

"It is the very end of Hogwarts' property," Tom answered. "I discovered it two months ago when I left."

He was looking at her calculatingly, as if trying to figure out whether she liked it or not. The vulnerability on his face was both familiar and foreign to Danielle. For a split second, the image of Andy falling lifeless to the ground and Snape's mangled body on the floor of the Shrieking Shack flashed before her. Then she shook the images fiercely out of her mind. That wasn't Tom. That was Voldemort.

"I love it," she said fervently.

Tom allowed an almost-pleased expression to cross his face. "I thought it would make you feel better," he said awkwardly. He sounded like a little boy hesitant to give a gift to someone he admired.

"What happened to you, Tom?" Danielle suddenly asked. "What happened to not caring and not letting anyone in? Wasn't that the last thing you wanted?"

"It was and is," he agreed. "People are worthless. It is better to be alone." For a second, he sounded like his old self.

Danielle wanted to go over to him—but if there was one thing she knew about Tom Riddle, it was that he would come when he was ready.

A rose floated up in front of him. Danielle watched as he reached forward to grab it. As soon as his fingers touched it, it was transformed into a beautiful white dove, which chirped and flew over to Danielle. She smiled. "I already know you're the best wizard of your age. There's no need to prove it to me again."

"But that isn't what I was doing," Tom said. Their eyes met and Danielle grinned widely at his deliberate choice of words.

The dove chirped once more before flying away in a flurry of white wings. Danielle watched it disappear, lost in thought. When she came back to earth Tom was standing beside her. He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

"Tom," Danielle began. "I know that you don't feel the same way, but what I said in Albania is still true. I lo—"

He put a finger to her lips. "I care about you more than I can ever remember caring about anyone," he said. "But that is all I can say, Clara. If you want a long, drawn-out passionate declaration of undying love you are not going to get it from me."

Danielle couldn't help but laugh. It was just so… _Tom._ "I know," she said. "I've never really been the type to want Prince Charming, anyway."

"Prince Charming?" Tom asked, and smirked.

Before she could answer, he roughly pulled her close to him and before she knew it, his lips were on hers. Danielle wound her arms around her shoulders and let herself go.

For once, she wasn't thinking about kissing Tom Riddle, the boy who would grow up to be the most evil Dark wizard of all time and who would kill countless people.

She was thinking of kissing Tom Riddle, the boy she loved.

* * *

When they next spoke again the afternoon was nearing its close. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, casting ominous shadows over the mountains and the forest behind them. Danielle had sat down in the waist-deep grass and was leaning against Tom's side, her head on his shoulder. Her fingers were expertly weaving a flower necklace together. "What are you going to do about the diadem?" she asked.

Tom, who had been absent-mindedly playing with his wand, stiffened. "I am going back for it this summer."

Danielle dropped her necklace. "What? Tom, the potions that Madam Cutteridge will prepare for you can hold off the curse for a while—"

"Holding off the curse will not make anything better, Clara," Tom said harshly. "If I want to avoid dying in the next three years I have to find that diadem."

"Just wait until you graduate Hogwarts. That way you can concentrate on finding it—"

"What if I do not find it? Then I am completely helpless, Clara. I will do anything it takes to stop the curse. I will even—" He cut himself off, aware he had said too much.

Danielle glanced sideways at him. It probably wasn't wise to declare she knew about Horcruxes just yet. "At least let me come with you," she begged.

"No. It is too dangerous. You will be safe at the orphanage."

"And possibly be killed in an air raid? Tom, I'm going with you, no matter what you say."

He raked his hand through his hair. "As soon as I find the diadem, I am going to find my _father_ ," he continued, voice quiet with rage. "I will not allow you to come with me."

"You can't kill your father!" Danielle exclaimed, jumping to her feet. " _I_ will not allow _that_!"

A different kind of anger was brewing in his eyes now. "Are you under the impression you have a say in all I do, Clara?"

"N—no. It's just—"

Tom clenched his jaw. "I am going back to find the diadem this summer, no matter what."

Danielle sighed. There was no use arguing with him. She would have to find some other way to convince him it wasn't a good idea.

But that could wait. She had three months to do it, after all.

That was more than enough time. Right?

* * *

It was the stuff of silly romance novels: that an ordinary girl managed to redeem the most evil wizard of all time, Danielle thought as she lay in bed that night in the empty Slytherin dormitory, unable to fall asleep.

But she _hadn't_ redeemed Tom. In fact, she hadn't done much at all other than learn that he was actually human, somewhere under the cold, emotionless façade he presented to the world. He bled just as red as any other human, whether they were wizard or Muggle, and his heart still beat. Even though he liked to pretend he didn't feel, that he was never angry or upset or even nervous, he _was_ —he was just much, much better at hiding them than anyone else. And perhaps Danielle had just been the lucky person to witness it. Maybe she had just caught him at a vulnerable time and someone else could have easily taken her place.

On the other hand…was it really a fluke? He had kissed her, admitted he cared for her, and brought her to a bloody _field_ just so they could be alone together! Unless Tom was manipulating her—and Danielle wouldn't have been at all surprised if this had turned out to be the case—he did feel something for her.

How was she supposed to know for sure, though? Some part of the Ravenclaw in her still remained, and Danielle had to be certain of where she stood with Tom. With him it was all mysteries and secrets. Even if she stalked up to him and demanded to know exactly what she was to him, she doubted he would be honest with her.

Some part of her was still unable to reconcile the terrifying, red-eyed monster she had faced in the Forbidden Forest with the blue-eyed boy who had turned a rose into a dove for her earlier that day. No, something else was amiss, and Danielle was determined to find out what it was.

He'd lured her into a secluded area, and she'd willingly followed him, which was bad enough in itself. If Danielle knew anything about Tom, it was that he was a very talented actor, and the hesitation in his voice and the almost-shyness she'd heard could have easily been fabricated.

 _Look at you, mistrusting everything he says and does,_ a small voice scolded in the back of her mind. _You're just as bad as he is._ But, considering his track record, Danielle thought that this was the safest thing to do. She would get to the bottom of this and figure out exactly why he had brought her to the glen, acted uncertain around her, and even kissed her of his own accord. None of those things sounded like Tom, or at least the Tom who had been present for the past eight months.

She could ask Dumbledore, she supposed, but something about that afternoon had felt private, as if Tom hadn't wanted anyone else to know about it. Danielle supposed she couldn't blame him; he had a reputation to uphold, after all, and he would surely be furious at her if she went around telling everyone that he'd acted kind to her and given her a rose.

Rolling over in bed so that she faced the door, Danielle closed her eyes and envisioned ways she could broach the subject with him. Preferably it would be best to ask early in the morning, before the other students returned and they would go back to their respective roles—that was, of being fellow Prefects and nothing more. Would she have to deal with insults whispered at her by Abraxas Malfoy and his Slytherin friends? Would their "relationship"—Danielle wasn't sure what other word she should use—still continue, or would they act as if nothing had ever happened between them? Danielle wasn't sure how she would be able to handle it if the latter turned out to be the case, but could she really expect anything else from Tom?

She was going to go absolutely mad if she thought about this any longer. Danielle buried her face into her pillow, resolving to block out all thoughts about Tom until the next morning, which proved to be much, much more difficult than it sounded.

* * *

The next day dawned cold and rainy, as was typical of a Scottish spring, confining Danielle, Tom, and the professors to the castle. She woke up late, just before noon, and took her time getting dressed and walking down to breakfast. Unfortunately, she hadn't dreamed up any miraculous ideas during the night and slowly trudged into the Great Hall just as lost as she had been the previous day.

Not entirely to her surprise, Tom was nowhere to be seen, and Danielle ate breakfast under the watchful eyes of Dippet, who was still wary of Tom after what he'd learned about his favourite student. Danielle wondered if this was a factor in Tom not coming down to breakfast. Since she was certain that Tom was already awake—she was certain that he had never slept in past eight o'clock in his life—she headed straight to the library; more specifically, the Restricted Section. If Madam Pince saw her she would just say that she had been sent by Dippet to find him, which was partly true—although term hadn't started yet, it was probably better to err on the side of caution and begin their Prefect duty early.

But luckily, the librarian was nowhere to be seen when Danielle slipped inside and made straight for the open door of the Restricted Section. She paused at the entrance; surely Tom wouldn't have been so careless as to _not_ close it. So either Madam Pince had willingly let him inside, or he had expected her to find him.

Sighing to herself, Danielle pushed open the door and made for the rows of desks at the other end of the bookshelves, recognizing the tall, dark-haired figure that sat at the table furthest from the entrance, near the window that looked down onto the Quidditch pitch. Rain pounded heavily against the glass, masking the sound of her approach. Then again, of course Tom knew she was there nonetheless. He glanced up briefly, his dark eyes registering her face, before turning back to his books.

Danielle hovered in front of his desk for a moment. "Hi," she finally said, breaking the silence. Tom gave her a short nod, acknowledging her presence, but didn't look up. She nervously shifted from foot to foot, almost hoping that Madam Pince would interrupt them now. "Listen," she continued when it was clear he wasn't going to answer, "I wanted to ask you about yesterday. I've been thinking about it, and I was wondering why you acted like—"

"Like what?" Tom interrupted. Now he looked up at her, and she momentarily lost her train of thought.

"Well, you know… _different_ ," Danielle replied. "You weren't acting like yourself. I wanted to know what was really going on."

The hint of a smirk crossed his lips. "You believe that I was manipulating you," Tom said. "Well, Clara, I am sure you are aware by now that I would not need to go to those lengths if I truly wished to control you."

She frowned. "What do you mean? Merlin, Tom, just be straightforward for once! It's like I have to…to decode whatever you say."

"And perhaps you have to learn to better analyze situations," he retorted. "It is no wonder that the Sorting Hat did not place you in Ravenclaw."

Danielle's frown turned into a mutinous scowl. "Answer the question!" she snapped. "Why did you bring me to that glen yesterday?"

Tom snapped the book he was reading with a loud snap and stood up, towering over her. She took an unconscious step away from him as he said in a low voice, "This is an absurd and ridiculous conversation. I am beginning to regret my decision already." While she gaped at him, he swept past her and disappeared, gone even before she had a chance to call after him.

At first Danielle made to follow him, but after she'd jogged out of the library and to the Grand Staircase, he was nowhere to be found. She sighed and leaned over the railing, wishing she had taken the book he'd been perusing so she could throw it at him the next time she saw him.

"Hello, dear!" a friendly voice called from the stairs, and Danielle turned to see Madam Cutteridge climbing toward her, probably having just come from breakfast. "You look rather despondent."

"No, ma'am, I'm fine," Danielle mumbled, straightening up and trying her best to smile. "It's just—actually, you know what? I need to ask you a question."

"Of course," the nurse said, beckoning her up the stairs. "Come to the hospital wing and we'll fix you right up."

"It's not me who needs fixing," Danielle told her as they rounded back onto the corridor and through the double doors that opened up into the infirmary. "I was just curious about the potions that you were giving Tom."

Madam Cutteridge glanced back at her as she straightened up the beds, looking almost amused. "Has he been acting different?"

"Yes—how did you know?"

The matron's lips twitched as she explained, "They do have the unfortunate side-effect of lowering one's inhibitions. I imagine that Mr Riddle must have said or done something that he wasn't very happy about later. Am I correct?"

Danielle nodded. "But what do you mean by 'lowering one's inhibitions'? Do they suddenly start thinking like a different person or…?"

"Not exactly. The potion just causes them to act in ways that they normally wouldn't otherwise, but in ways that they might perhaps want to. Is that clear?" Madam Cutteridge smiled at her, a knowing look in her eye.

Danielle felt simultaneously relieved and slightly disappointed. So Tom technically _hadn't_ brought her to the glen and kissed her of his own accord—he had been under the influence of the potions. That must be why he was so upset about it that morning and why he hadn't wanted to talk about it.

But, on the other hand, did that mean it was something he had _wanted_ to do, but hadn't wished to let his guard done that much? Was it perhaps a blessing in disguise?

"Miss Ashford?" Madam Cutteridge asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Danielle said. "I'm perfectly fine. Thank you very much for your help." With that, she dashed out of the hospital wing, trying to hide the grin on her face. She could certainly use this as blackmail against Tom if she ever needed to get something from him. He certainly wouldn't want her to know that he had lowered inhibitions every time he took the potion, because it would mean that he in turn would become easier to manipulate.

On her way downstairs, Danielle nearly ran into Dumbledore, who was speaking to one of the portraits. "Ah, good morning, Clara," he told her, his eyes twinkling. "Is there any particular reason why you look so pleased?"

"Actually, there is, sir," Danielle said. "The next time you see Madam Cutteridge, can you please tell her that I am very grateful that she is making those potions for Tom?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I certainly shall," he said. Danielle continued on her way, still beaming and giddy.

Even a week ago, she would have been upset that Tom hadn't done those things of his own accord. But now some small part of her liked to believe that it still counted.


	44. Solidify

"Sir, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Dumbledore looked up from where he was marking a stack of Transfiguration essays and smiled. "You may talk to me for as long as you wish, Miss Ashford. But shouldn't you be studying for O.W.L.'s? They start in a week, as I'm sure you are aware."

Danielle nodded and lowered herself into the seat in front of his desk. "I'm meeting with Alyssa after supper, sir. We've been studying every night for the past month."

"I'm glad to hear that," Dumbledore said pleasantly. He leaned forward and interlocked the tips of his fingers together, surveying her over his half-moon glasses. "Now, Miss Ashford, what is the matter you wish to discuss with me?"

She smiled awkwardly. "I know it's a bit early, but I think I'm going to need your help during the summer. Tom, er, wants to _visit_ his father."

Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "I thought the potions were helping him. He's been recovering so well."

"He is," Danielle agreed. Tom was looking noticeably healthier and the curse had been dormant for quite a while now. "But…the potions aren't one hundred percent effective. They only help to lessen the effects of the curse, not destroy it completely. Madam Cutteridge told me his body will eventually become immune to it."

"Have you tried to convince him not to visit his father? If you do not mind me saying so, you are probably the only one who will be able to make him believe otherwise."

"I've tried for the last two months, Professor. I still haven't gotten any closer. He's determined to find his father over the summer."

Dumbledore finally nodded. "If that is the case, then I will do everything in my power to prevent him from finding the Riddles."

Danielle sighed in relief. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

The Transfiguration professor paused to offer her a lemon drop before fixing her with a steely gaze. "I don't mean to intrude, Miss Ashford, but how are you and Mr Riddle faring at the moment, aside from the differences of opinion over summer activities?"

Danielle's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "We're fine, sir. It's just not very…public. Tom likes to play things close to the chest, if you catch my drift."

"I have noticed that, yes," Dumbledore replied.

There was a brief silence, during which Danielle seemed to be plucking up the courage to speak. "Why are you letting me stay in the past?" she finally inquired. "At first I thought you were just going to send me straight back to 2011, even if it meant I would die there."

"I did consider that possibility in the beginning," Dumbledore admitted. "But…questions of that scope are not easily answered. There will always be wizards and witches who abuse the power of Time-Turners—there is not a point in punishing someone with no malicious intent. If it is safer for you to stay in the past, then you may do so."

Danielle's heart leapt into her throat. "So I don't have to worry anymore?" she asked.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Not about that particular matter, no."

She could have jumped up and hugged him; but she forced herself to act mature and move on. "And…one more thing. How exactly did I meddle with time? My professors in the future would always lecture about the consequences of time-travel—"

"Why, Miss Ashford, you did nothing except create an infinite number of parallel universes." Dumbledore smiled warmly at her.

Confusion showed plainly on her face. "What?"

"Well, when you first went back to the year 1942, a paradox was created which kept replicating your every action—"

Danielle's confusion turned to horrified annoyance. "Professor? I don't think I really want to know."

He chuckled.

"But—I'm still the original Danielle Bailey, right?" she continued, looking anxiously at him. "I mean, it was me who first discovered the Time-Turner…I'm the first one, right, sir?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Yes, you are—" He held up a hand when he saw her visibly relax. "But keep in mind that all the other Danielle Baileys in all the other alternate universes can say precisely the same thing."

She groaned. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Do not worry, my dear. You are not the first person to have played with time, nor will you be the last."

His tone seemed to finalize the conversation. Danielle stood up, pausing to take another lemon drop. "I can't thank you enough for what all you've done, Professor." Her tone was fervent and genuine. "I honestly wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you."

"You don't need to thank me, Miss Ashford," Dumbledore said. "I would argue that the majority of it was your own strength. All of us have buried potential we can't imagine, even in our wildest dreams."

"I'm just beginning to realize that now," replied Danielle. She left his office feeling lighthearted. Now all she had to worry about were the O.W.L.'s next week.

But as she turned down a shadowy corner, she heard raised voices emanating from the end of the second-floor hallway. Danielle immediately recognized them as Olive and Abraxas. In spite of herself, she hid behind a pillar and strained to hear their conversation.

"…Get rid of it. It's of no use to either of us," Abraxas was saying.

Olive let out a strangled sob. "I can't! It's my child. You don't understand—"

Danielle's mouth fell open. She was _pregnant?_

"You'll be ruined forever, Olive. Just go to Madam Cutteridge and ask her not to tell anyone. I heard the procedure can happen overnight."

"No, Abraxas! Leave me alone!" There was a growl from Malfoy and a second later the unmistakeable sound of flesh hitting flesh. He'd slapped her.

Olive's sobs gradually grew fainter and Danielle pressed herself tightly against the wall when she heard footsteps walking toward her. Malfoy strode by, head up and looking as proud as ever.

As soon as he'd disappeared, Danielle ran to the girls' bathroom, the only logical place Olive would be. She wasn't disappointed when she heard loud sniffles.

Olive Hornby was collapsed on the bathroom floor, crying hysterically. Floating above her was a gleeful-looking Myrtle. Both girls looked up when they saw Danielle enter.

"Go away, Ashford," Olive hissed. She looked almost frightful: her hair was sticking in every direction and her eyes were half-mad. Myrtle giggled.

"You should tell Professor Dippet," Danielle said at once.

"So you can be Little Miss Prim and Proper? I don't think so." Olive tried to sneer at her, but it came out only half-hearted.

"No! This isn't about status. This is about what's right," protested Danielle. "You don't even have to mention me."

"Shut up, Ashford. You have no _idea_ about what I'm going through. I bet if Tom got _you_ pregnant, he wouldn't be like Abraxas."

Danielle tilted her head in thought. "You're right. He wouldn't slap me—he'd kill both me and the baby."

Before Olive could respond, she turned on her heel and left the bathroom. If the other girl wanted to ruin her life, it was up to her. Danielle couldn't say that she didn't try to help.

Alyssa, Dylan and Alphard were just emerging from the Slytherin common room when she caught up with them. "I have something important to tell you," Danielle said in a low voice.

"Are you sure it can't wait?" Dylan asked, looking longingly at the staircase. "We're already late for dinner."

"Olive is preg—er, with child."

For a full ten seconds, her friends just stared at her. Alyssa was the first to burst out laughing. "That explains everything!" she cried. "I can't believe I didn't think of that possibility before!"

"How did you know, Clara?" Alphard asked.

Danielle quickly explained to them what she'd seen. Even Alyssa looked disgusted when she heard about Abraxas' slap. "Should we tell a teacher?" said Dylan, seeming uneasy.

"I think we should leave that up to Olive," Danielle answered. "Everyone will find out eventually."

The four of them exchanged glances and grinned at each other. Dylan, as usual, was the one to ruin the moment. "Now that that's over, can we go get dinner?"

"Yes, you Flobberworm," Alyssa teased. "All you do is eat and sleep…seriously…"

Danielle walked a few paces behind them while they made their way to the Great Hall. Things had seemingly settled down. Reuniting with her friends was easier than she'd hoped: Alphard and Dylan had already forgiven her for deserting them. Alyssa, on the other hand, was harder to win over, but after a few weeks she'd warmed back up to Danielle. Now it was as if their brief "adventure" never happened.

Well, all except for one thing: Dylan came up to her one evening asking who Lord Voldemort was. He'd found one of the papers Danielle had scribbled on while they were camping. She managed to convince him for the moment that it was just an odd nickname Tom liked to call himself, but Dylan would eventually realize there was something deeper behind it. Until then, though, Danielle could sleep easy at night.

No, things weren't perfect. Tom was still afflicted with Vetus Periculosus, and sooner or later Danielle would have to deal with the repercussions of being a time-traveler.

But for now, she would enjoy her momentary time of peace while it lasted.


	45. Epilogue: The Calm Before the Storm

_**June 1943** _

_**Tirana, Albania** _

He'd been spying on the boy.

At first, it had seemed harmless—just another ignorant soul scouring the forests for Ravenclaw's diadem. But it soon became clear that this new boy was anything _but_ harmless. Day and night, for two months straight, Gellert Grindelwald watched him searching in vain for the diadem. He'd used powerful Disillusionment Charms and untraceable spells to cover his tracks.

This would have caught Grindelwald's attention regardless, but his curiosity was piqued even more when he discovered the boy radiated Dark Magic. He was young but powerful, casting the Cruciatus curse on unsuspecting animals and using _Imperio_ on local Muggles.

Grindelwald had every intention to reveal himself and make the strange boy an offer he couldn't refuse, until Dumbledore had gotten in the way. He was watching the boy too. Gellert was forced to retreat back into the shadows and observe from afar. However, he had one advantage neither Dumbledore nor the boy was aware of—he'd stolen the diadem. Gellert had no personal use for it, but possessing it was crucial, for it would be near-catastrophic if Dumbledore were ever to get his hands on it. And Gellert knew that was the headmaster's wish.

For the mysterious boy with the English accent and the dark aura was more than just a highly intelligent student: he was very, very ill. Grindelwald had watched him collapse countless times, watched his features wane and his cheeks hollow. He was undeniably searching for the diadem's healing properties.

That was when a wonderful idea occurred to Gellert: this boy would do anything for the diadem. _Anything._ And he attended the very school that Gellert planned to take over next.

His mind became more vulnerable when he was in the throes of the curse. Gellert took advantage of this and probed through memories until he found something useful. A recurring pattern in his thoughts was the image of a girl, roughly his age, with curly dark hair and grey eyes.

 _There is always a girl_ , Gellert had thought scathingly. _Well, at least this_ _will make things much smoother._

She would be his pawn. Girls betrayed others easily, and it surely wouldn't take much for this one to break. After she was done with, Gellert would have all the information he needed in order to tempt the cursed boy to him. He would be so desperate to be cured that he would essentially lead Grindelwald right to Hogwarts' weakest point.

When Hogwarts fell, taking over the rest of Britain would be swift and efficient. Then Gellert Grindelwald would be the undisputed master of the wizarding world and Dumbledore would be dead—all because of a dying boy and his pawn.

It was laughable, really. Gellert didn't have to use complicated curses or a mass army like he'd done with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. No, this was much simpler.

He would bring Hogwarts crumbling down from within.


End file.
